


Naw.

by CassadyFlies



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Backstory, Interuniversal terrorism, Morty done seen some shit., Time Travel, wubalubadubdub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-07-15 23:02:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7242355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassadyFlies/pseuds/CassadyFlies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morty is hurt when Rick abandons him out of the blue. Years of unanswered questions later, Morty has a chance to look into Rick's past and maybe get some closure. Or maybe it's just a bunch of bullshit that never mattered anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mortyhood

Rick Sanchez of dimension C-137 was Morty Smith’s grandfather. That was all Morty really could say. And, if he was being completely honest with himself, even that much might not be true. For all Morty knew, his real grandfather had died long ago, and another Rick had taken his place. That was a thought Morty would often ruminate on as the days traumatic events crashed down on him. Occasionally, it was even a source of comfort. To think that maybe his personal genetics, or… What had Rick said? Epigenetics. Whatever. Maybe he wasn’t a direct descendant of the old man who dragged him across galaxies, repeatedly tearing apart everything he felt made him human, and significant. Maybe there was a Rick out there who was more like him, and that’s why Morty was the way he was.

Maybe Morty wasn’t an idiot, but a real smart guy who was also empathetic. Maybe he could be as smart as Rick, but for all his caring he managed to make himself look stupid.

Or maybe he just took after his dad.

Rick had left a long time ago, leaving Morty struggling to find his earthlegs again. In the five and a half years that had elapsed since Rick had disappeared in the night, Morty had applied, been accepted to, and dropped out of college three times. It disappointed his father, but that didn’t really bother Morty much. College was… A waste of time. Morty could feel his life slipping away as his brain sank further into the sludge of academia that was somehow both over his head and patronizingly stupid at the same time. When he had been travelling the multiverse with Rick, everything had made weird sense in a sort of beautifully purposeless way. College was the opposite. It was endless bureaucracy that insisted it had a reason even though Morty could find none.

Or maybe he was just too stupid.

The third time he dropped out of college, Morty was done. If he was too stupid for school, then that was that. There was nothing to be done to change it. Maybe he’d just fuck off for the rest of his life and hope to die by the time he was thirty.

Going back home hurt. The first two times Morty had dropped out of college, he’d found somewhere else to stay. With a friend, in some cheap apartment, once for a week with Summer. It was hard to look his father in the eye. The clear disappointment in Jerry’s features as he rattled off comforting platitudes was just a little too much for him to take at the time.

“Well, son, you know you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” Jerry patted his son on the shoulder, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “You’ll try again next fall.”

“I-I-I didn’t fail out, Dad, I just sorta, sorta, I’m just sorta done, you know? I think it’s just, just not for me or something.” Morty stared down at his shoes.

“Well.” Jerry patted Morty’s shoulder again. “There’s always community college.”

Morty thought about arguing, but decided just to nod instead. “Yeah. Yeah, we’ll see.”

The house felt empty with Beth and Summer gone. Academia had worked itself out well for Summer, and she was doing… something… in government. She had campaign ads on TV sometimes, and Morty always watched them when they came on. Beth was also doing something, somewhere, with someone. Honestly, Morty had lost touch with his family after Rick left. He remembered the last time he’d seen his grandfather.

“Rick Sanchez, Earth dimension C-137?” A… a sort of thing with pink flippers had appeared in the middle of their living room.

Rick just stared boredly at the thing as he nursed a beer. “Good going, MoOOrty.”

“What? Wh-what did I do, huh, Rick?” Morty glanced between Rick and the thing nervously. The thing was oozing some sort of slime that was seeping into the rug at an alarming rate. “Aw, aw geez. What- what is that thing? It’s, man, it’s really, really something, huh?”

Rick sighed, standing up unevenly. “That, Morty, is a Martial Bloobich. It’s- you know what, hold on.” He held up a silencing finger to Morty before drawing a gun and shooting the thing in it’s largest oozing flap. It exploded with a gush of slime that coated Morty, Rick, the living room, and a shocked looking Summer who had unfortunately walked in.

“Oh my god, Mom is going to flip out. Grandpa Rick, what the hell?” Summer glared at him.

“Oh, the hell, Summer? Really? You want the hell?” Rick wiped the slime from his eyes and shot an annoyed look at Morty. “Seems like _someone_ decided to have an id-EEnntity crisis right when I was in the middle of watching Road Ragers. Which means I don’t get to finish this episode. Which means I don’t get to figure out who LeEEobald Fancydick is going to visit. So thanks for that, _Morty.”_

Morty just gaped. “An id- a what? Identity crisis? Huh, I dunno, Rick, I feel pretty normal, just, regular old self here, you know? Maybe it’s not me.”

Rick ignored him, taking a long pull from his flask before turning on his heel and heading towards the garage door. “Welp, that’s it, then. I’d say I’ll miss you but hon-hoOOnnestly you’ve both been nothing but a pain in my ass for years. Rick- Rick OUT muthafuckahs! Wubalubadubdub!”

Morty and Summer exchanged confused, panicked glances before rushing into the garage after him.

“Wait, Grandpa Rick, you’re not _leaving_ are you? I mean, like, forever?” Summer wrung her hands tightly as Rick threw some shit from the garage into his spaceship.

Rick paused to chug the rest of the liquor in his flask before collapsing down into the driver’s seat. “Sorty- Mummer- Morty.” He clasped Summer’s shoulder. “You did good, kid, but Grandpa’s got a little pr-oOOject he needs to work on. So, so… You be good. And, and, say no to school. Okay?” He patted Summer’s cheek. “Okay. Okay. O-kAAyy.” With that, he slammed the door to the space ship and took off.

They hadn’t seen him since.

With the house empty save for his dad, who was busy in his workspace working on some new pitch for an ad firm, Morty felt comfortable poking through things. He scanned the kitchen vaguely, pretending like he wasn’t slowly making his way over to the garage.

“O-oh. Huh. R-Rick’s garage. I guess, I guess I’ll just look inside. F-for old time’s sake.” He pushed the door open with a creak and walked inside. Everything had been cleared. A meticulously clean Prius sat where the spaceship had once been, and All of Rick’s boxes of sci-fi stuff were replaced by boxes of christmas decorations and clothes to be donated to Goodwill. Morty’s chest felt hollow. Sure, a lot of that stuff had left some mental scars, but it was his childhood. It was an important part of his life, and Morty couldn’t help but feel sentimental.

Morty spent another five minutes milling about the garage, not really knowing what else to do with himself. He was about to head back inside to grab a sandwich or something when he noticed one of the boxes on the shelf.

_Time Travel Stuff_

He and Rick had never really done any time travel. They had sort of, well, put it on the shelf. Time was tricky. Something about the butterfly effect and chaos theory. One time they had messed with time… they ended up in a Schrodinger’s cat nonsense limbo.

Why had Rick left it behind? Why hadn’t Jerry touched it? Morty approached the box cautiously, like it might come alive and swallow him whole. Who knows.

Inside, a set of goggles, a fancy looking gun, and a bottle of alcohol with an unbroken seal, and an envelope with his name on it. Morty took the box off the shelf and set it on the floor, staring down at the contents in confusion. Shrugging, he picked up the envelope and carefully tore it open. A short message was scrawled in Rick’s handwriting.

_Your choice._

Morty stared at the note until his eyes hurt. Then, he carefully put the note back inside the envelope and put the box back on the shelf.

_Not this time, Rick._


	2. Morty Smith and the terrible horrible no good very bad day

Two months past and Morty refused to think about the box on the shelf. He busied himself with job applications and TV. It was only when his dad started getting chummy and dreaming of a glorious father-son advertising agency that Morty realized he needed to figure something else out.

It was well past one in the morning when Morty found himself staring at the box again. He was barefoot and in his pajamas, standing on the cold cement floor of the garage. He sighed and reached out to take the box from the shelf again once more. He didn’t look inside. He didn’t ponder the mystery of the goggles or the purpose of the gun. He didn’t question the cryptic note. He just took the box into his room and shoved it under his bed.

_Later._

Later came and went. Morty found a job at local pub as a barback, carrying shit and taking orders from the bitter old alcoholic who ran the place. It wasn’t so bad. Slowly, he learned how to run the bar on his own, and his boss took advantage of the fact by having Morty run the place alone Monday through Thursday.

A few months down the line, and Morty found an apartment closer to the pub, and farther from his dad. He liked living alone again. It was relaxing.

The only thing was, his new bed didn’t have open space underneath. Morty had relocated the time travel box to a shelf by his bed, and it was the first thing he saw every morning. His curiosity grew.

Friday night, and Morty was alone. No real friends, weekend staring him in the face, and an ever mounting curiosity as to what Rick’s goggles did.

He broke. Nervously, he sat down on his bed with the gun and liquor bottle at his side. He turned the goggles over in his hand, wondering what he should do. There weren’t any buttons, no flashing lights, nothing that would indicate whether it was on or off. Just cold metal and green monitors for lenses.

“Well, they- they say you miss 100% of the sh-shot’s you don’t take. I guess.” Morty muttered to himself. Biting his lip to hold back anxiety, he fitted the goggles over his eyes.

“Aw- aw man, that’s… That’s pretty rough news.” A familiar voice rang in Morty’s ears. “I mean, I’m standing here, trying to have a day, and you come in and drop a big load like that. Dang, man. Dang.”

Morty’s vision flared into life, and there was Tiny Rick sitting at a dinner table with two adults looking sternly at him.

“I don’t know what to say, mijo.” The woman looked tired. “Just know that we did this with all the best intentions. We wanted you to have a better life than we did. And I thank God everyday that you were able to spend your childhood in this country.”

Rick slammed his fist on the table. “Fuck your god. Fuck this country. And fuck Mexico, I don’t wanna go back there.”

Rick’s father stood sharply. “You do _not_ talk to your parents that way. And you do _not_ speak such blasphemy under this roof.”

Rick stood too. “Well, fuck your roof, then!”

His father marched quickly around the table and grabbed Rick by the back of his shirt. “Come with me. You’re going to wash your mouth out with soap.” He dragged his son towards the kitchen sink.

“What, for real? Come on, man, Dad, I don’t- ghhbll…” His speech was halted as his father shoved a bar of soap into his mouth. He coughed and sputtered when the bar was removed, gasping for air only to have his head shoved under the running water of the sink. He struggled, and managed to pry his father’s hand from his neck long enough to stagger back across the room, spitting soapy water onto the tile floor.

Rick’s father stared sternly at him. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Rick folded his arms. “Fuck. You.”

His father’s eyes darkened threateningly, and Morty caught a glimpse of fear cross Tiny Rick’s features. Rick’s father continued to stare down his son as he unbuckled his belt.

Tiny Rick’s eyes widened slightly, but he stood his ground.

Morty bit his lip in anticipation. “Aw, geez, Rick, don’t- principals are, don’t just stand by your principals, this is gonna hurt bad. It’s not worth it. Just apologize.”

It was clear that neither could hear him. Morty watched with tears in his eyes as the most vicious beating of a child he had ever seen ensued. When it was finally over, Tiny Rick lay motionless on the floor, his breathing ragged. Large welts covered his back, and he’d gotten a tidy collection of defense wounds on his arms, dark bruises that ran from his wrists to his elbows.

Rick’s mother sat quietly, a stony expression on her face as she glanced between her son and husband. Rick’s father laid his belt on the table and grabbed his wife by the elbow, leading her into the other room.

Tiny Rick called after him, “Yeah, go fuck your wife. Gotta get rid of that erection you got from beating your son. Fucking sadist. I hope hell exists so you can burn!”

His dad ignored him, slamming the door behind him as he left.

Morty felt sick. He didn’t want to see anymore. He ripped the goggles off his head and tossed them to the other side of his bed. He glanced down at the bottle of alcohol lying beside him and understood.

_Rick’s telling me his story. He’s finally letting me in._ A rush of conflicting emotions clawed at Morty’s chest. Sighing shakily, he picked up the bottle and cracked the seal around the neck. He tipped the liquor down his throat, wincing at the burn. When he recapped the bottle and set it down, the alcohol was already doing it’s thing. Slowly, Morty picked up the goggles and turned them over in his hands. He sort of felt like he owed it to Rick to listen. After all these years, after all those adventures, this was his chance to finally see the human side of his grandfather.

He fitted the goggles around his eyes again and blinked at the flash of light as a new scene appeared before him.

They were in a forest. A river rushed fiercely next to them while seven naked teenagers lay out on a blanket, smoking out of colorful glass pipes. Rick was one of them.

There was a truck about fifteen feet from the river with Mexican license plates. Whatever device in Morty’s head that translated alien languages clearly also worked for Spanish, because everyone appeared to be speaking English.

“You ever cut your hair instead of doing something else?” A girl with a shaved head looked blearily at Rick.

“Hm?” He was staring at her naked breasts, and seemed not to hear what she was saying.

“Like… Instead of something worse? You just cut off your hair?”

Rick shrugged, still blatantly staring at the girl’s tits. “I set a field on fire.”

She nodded slowly, clearly too stoned to hold a real conversation. “Oh… kay… I’m… Oh, water.” She looked out at the rushing river. “Hey, Rick, wanna swim?”

He looked out at the river and shook his head. “Nah, it just rained. It’s too dangerous.”

She shoved him lightly. “Don’t be such a girl. Come on!”

Morty glanced nervously at the river too. The rapids were vicious, and stretched on for miles.

Rick shrugged, and followed her to the edge. They were sitting on a rock that dropped off suddenly into a deep, spring-fed stream. The girl jumped in, sinking underwater momentarily before emerging with a grin. Rick sat on the edge of the rock and slowly pushed himself off the edge.

Morty looked on in terror as the girl’s face went from happiness to fear in a heartbeat. A couple other teens stood up and walked over to the riverbed nervously.

Rick watched her fight the current, and shook his head, pulling himself out of the water.

“Help her, Rick!” Another girl shouted.

Rick shook his head and took a few steps away from the water. “Too late.”

The girl in the river screamed, “No! No, not too late! Help me! Help!” She was drifting further and further away, and the more she struggled to get to the edge, the further towards the middle she was pulled.

One of the other girls ran forward and dove into the water. She swam out towards the girl with the shaved head and grabbed her by the arm.

“That was stupid,” Rick muttered to himself.

In a moment, both girls were swallowed by the rapids and swept away. The remaining teens screamed for help that couldn’t hear them. They fell to their knees and broke down sobbing. They pulled at their hair and fell over each other in terror and grief.

Rick stood in the midst of all this, looking pale. He turned and walked away from the group to duck behind a tree. He vomited, clutching his stomach as tears streamed down his face.

Morty watched in stunned horror as the four teens at the riverside screamed hysterically, and Rick wiped his mouth and lit a pipe.

Morty couldn’t take it anymore. Once again, he pulled the goggles off his face and sat in shock, staring at his bedroom wall.

“What is this? Is it just- just horror stories? Just a bunch of sad crap? Why would I watch- why would he show me this?” Morty reached for the bottle that sat beside him, taking another long draw.

Morty froze with the bottle still at his lips, a sudden thought hitting him.

“Oh, oh damn. Oh shit, man, wow. Wow, that’s- oh man.” He stared down at his lap, a thousand questions burning in his mind. He wished Rick was there to explain it it him.

One question in particular stood out from the rest. An anxious tremor ran through Morty’s body as he stared down at the other item lying beside him.

_What’s the gun for?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha.


	3. Pandora's Box is Huge

“Give me a blowjob.”

“Ye- Yeah. I can do that.” Morty forced a smile and started preparing the drink. He was used to the bar crowd on Saturday nights, they tended to be rowdier and more prone to puke on the floor. It wasn’t his favorite night to work by any means, but he did make good cash. He’d occasionally walk home with 400 bucks in his pocket.

It was eleven something at night, and the place was really getting busy. Morty half wished his boss would hire another bartender, even though it meant competition. He was working on autopilot, hands moving faster than his brain could follow.

_Kamikaze- oh, with Skyy? Shit, what did I use? Margaritas. Cool. Blended? Fuck. That’s gonna take time. No, I can’t light the shooter on fire. Because laws. Bacardi is more flammable than gasoline, I’m not burning down the bar. Gin Rickey. Rick. Ah- the goggles. Maybe I should- Jager bombs? For real? Where’s the Red Bull? Psh- sipping a Jager bomb like a bitch. Who does that?_

His thoughts grinded to a halt when a familiar face walked through the door. Jessica. He hadn’t seen her in forever. Would she recognize him?

Her eyes lit up when she saw Morty behind the bar. “Hey! Morty. It’s me, Jessica. From high school.”

Morty nodded dumbly. “H-hey. Jessica. Hi. Wow.”

She leaned against the bar. “So, you’re bartending now? That’s cool.” She peered over the bar, checking out the array of colorful bottles.

Morty didn’t know what to say other than, “Uh huh.” His mind was racing. He should say something. Something cool. Ask her about what she’s doing now. What was she into back in high school? Honestly, he couldn’t remember anything other than she was a-

“Red headed slut?” Jessica smiled at him.

Morty stared blankly, trying to figure out what he had really heard, because surely that wasn’t- _Oh, the drink._ “Yeah.” Cordial shelf, shaker, shooter glass, serve.

She tossed it back easily. Morty wasn’t quite sure how. Jager was disgusting on its own, but mixed with peach schnapps… Those shots tasted the same coming up as going down. “So, weird question- is your grandpa still alive?”

Morty blinked, a little taken aback. “Um…”

“Ey, yo- my guy- can we get some more purple geckos? Like… five?” A very drunk man shoved Jessica aside.

“Nah, you’re good.” Morty frowned at him.

“The fuck you say?” He looked incredulously at Morty. “The _fuck_ you say?”

Morty sighed. This happened every Saturday. “I said you’re good. You’re done. I’m not- not gonna s-serve you anymore.” _Shit._ His stutter made him seem weak. If it happened while he was trying to cut someone off, it inevitably lead to trouble.

The guy scoffed. “Bullshit. I said five. I pay you, you serve me. This is a bar. People drink. Get used to it.”

Morty put his hands on the bar, trying to look stronger than he was. “I’m a bartender. I control what and when you drink. I control how much, and I control when you stop. You got a problem with it, take it up with security.” He flagged down Kevin, a surly-looking man who wasn’t actually employed by the bar, but dealt with aggravated customers in exchange for drinks.

Kevin swaggered over. “We got a problem, Marty?”

The drunk man looked Kevin up and down, sizing him up before deciding it wasn’t worth it and leaving in a huff. “Fucking Nazis, man.”

Morty smiled to himself in satisfaction. “No problem, Kevin.”

Kevin nodded. “Can I get another beer?”

Morty poured him his favorite draught, and sent him on his way.

Jessica, who had been quiet during the exchange, seemed impressed. “Cool. You really took care of that.”

Morty blushed. “Ah, well, that guy was- he was just being a pain. Gotta take care of them, don’t want him, you know, hurting himself or anything.” Morty picked up a glass and set it back down, not quite sure what to do with his hands. “I don’t know where Rick is, by the way. He took off.”

“Oh, okay.” Jessica looked disappointed. “Well, did he leave any stuff behind? He always had cool stuff.”

_Ugh, the goggles. What should I do?_ “Ah, not much.” Morty admitted vaguely.

She leaned across the bar. “You know, anything he left behind- I’d love to come over some time and check it out.”

Morty’s heart skipped a beat. “Uh, um, yeah! Yeah. I mean, yeah. You can come- You can come over whenever. Everything he- the stuff he left, it’s at my apartment.”

She smiled. “When do you get off?”

_When you do._ “Two.”

“Great. Sounds like a plan.”

******

Having Jessica in his room was a little unnerving. He almost wondered if he was dreaming. This exact scenario had played out in his head countless times, after all.

She sat down on his bed, bouncing a little before glancing around the room. “So, this is where you live now?”

Morty nodded. “Y-yeah. I mean, it’s not much, but, it’s home, right?” He laughed awkwardly, the picked up the time travel box from the shelf. “This is it.”

Jessica’s eyes widened as she looked inside. “What does it do?”

“It, uh…” What _did_ it do? “It’s like watching a movie, kinda, but you feel like you’re there. I- I- I think it’s like, Rick’s memories, or his backstor- his past, you know? Like, before all the crazy, before he- before I knew him. Or before I was alive? I don’t know, really. It just… I think it just picks up where I left off every time I put them back on, ‘cause it’s going forward, in, in time, you know? I don’t know.” He was babbling. Really, he wasn’t sure what the thing was, or why it was showing him these images.

Jessica just nodded like he was making perfect sense. “Show me.”

Morty gulped, and sat down next to her. “You just kinda-” he put the goggles over his eyes and-

“Rick Sanchez of dimension C-137.” A deep voice rang out. A large pink sort of elephant crossed with a vacuum cleaner looking thing was towering over Rick, who looked to be in his early twenties at that point.

“That’s… Okay...” Rick’s eyes were wide, staring up at the creature like he’d never seen anything like it. “What the… Who the hell?” He reached out to touch the creature, hand recoiling like he’d been burned when he came in contact with the greasy flesh. “Shit fuck! What the hell?”

“You are Rick Sanchez, father of Beth Sanchez.” The creature’s eyes were round and bulbous, a fish-like coating covering them. It never blinked.

“Beth?” Rick squeaked out. “Bethany? My girlfriend’s baby?” He took a few steps away. “Oh, shit, did Rachel put you up to this? I told you I didn’t want to keep that fucking baby! That was your shitty decision. I don’t want anything to do with it!”

The creature leaned down to Rick’s eye level. “Beth Sanchez is still a baby? This is too soon.”

“It’s Bethany _Goldstein,_ actually.” Rick insisted. “That kid is hers, not mine.”

“No matter.” The creature reached its trunk around to it’s back, and pulled a portal gun out of a fanny pack it wore. “You have been identified by the Council of Ricks as being a Rick of sufficient genetic similarity within the central finite curve. You will come with me.” The creature reached out its trunk, and Morty was snapped back into reality.

“Morty? Morty? Are you okay?” Jessica was shaking his arm.

Morty nodded, staring at the goggles. “Yeah, just- saw a-a-a vision or whatever.”

Jessica reached out to lightly touch the goggles too. “Can I try?”

Morty shrugged, and handed them to her. The moment she put them on, she went limp and passed out in Morty’s lap. “Um! J-Jessica! I’m! Uh… I… I… Wow, this looks. I’m not gonna do anything, okay?” He sat there awkwardly, staring pointedly ahead at the wall with his hands folded behind his back. A few minutes went by, and nothing happened. Morty began to grow concerned. He prodded Jessica gently with one finger. “Um… You okay?”

Moments later, Jessica stirred, and pried the goggles off her head. She sat up dazedly. “Cool.”

Morty shifted his weight. “So, so… What did you see?”

She grinned. “Your grandpa yelling at me to mind my business. He called me Jerry a couple times, so I don’t think he was expecting me. I think these are only meant for you.”

Morty felt kinda embarrassed. “O-Oh! Okay. Well, yeah. There was- he said to, for me to watch this, so… Yeah, maybe he… I mean, he had…” A sudden thought struck Morty. “You know, he used to have these goggles that let you see into other universes through genetically matching pairs of your own eyes. That’s how we found this univ- uh! uh... it was pretty neat.”

Jessica nodded, not seeming to really be listening. “You think you could find him, Morty?”

“I mean, if Rick doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.” Morty shrugged. “He’s pretty good at that.”

Jessica leaned in closer. “Even without you? Don’t you think he’d be vulnerable without your brainwaves protecting him?”

Morty shook his head. “Nah, I’m sure he’s found… I mean, he may have even found another Mor- oh. I told you about the brainwave thing?”

“Tiny Rick did. Way back when.” Jessica smiled. “He really is fascinating. So are you.”

“Oh- oh.” Morty blushed slightly. “Uh, I mean, th-thanks Jessica.”

Jessica smiled before leaning in and planting a quick kiss on Morty’s lips. “I should go.”

Morty was dazed. “Y-yeah. Oh, really? I mean, you could stay and…”

She shook her head and stood. “It’s past three in the morning. I’m gonna get some sleep. You should too. I’ll see you around, though. Bye, Morty.”

“Bye, Jessica…” She walked out the door and Morty sighed, falling backwards on his bed. “Wow…”

What a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got the chapter done. Morty wish-fullfilment.


	4. Switched at Birth

“Rick Sanchez of dimension C-137.”

Twenty-something Rick stood facing the Council, looking bored. “Carl, you dick. You don’t lace another man’s booze. I got classes and shit to get to.”

One of the council members looked at the others nervously. “He’s still in school? He hasn’t drURPopped out yet?”

The large elephant/vacuum cleaner thing took a few steps backward. “I was too soon. Beth Sanchez is still a baby.”

“Dammit, Steve!” One of the Ricks yelled at the Vacuuphant. “Why do we eEEven pay you? 4th dimension trash.”

“Look at that idiot! He doesn’t even believe we’re real!” Another Rick complained. “You may as well have brought us a Morty!”

“If his Beth’s still a baby, he doesn’t even _have_ a Morty! You can’t just brUUrp-bring a Rick into the Council before they have a Morty!” Rick slid down in his Council chair. “Shit dawg, I need a drink.” He rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Get the hell out of my sight, Steve. Rick! Get your punk ass over here.” He gestured vaguely at C-137.

Steve the Vacuuphant handed the portal gun to C-137 and exited the room slowly. C-137 turned the thing over in his hands a few times, then pointed the portal gun at a Council Rick and took a few steps towards the door Steve had exited. “Why?”

All the Ricks in the Council groaned. “This guy, shit, I forgot what a LOSER I used to be.”

“Do we even need him?” One Council Rick asked.

“You know as well as I do that a loose- uUURp- a loose Rick is a danger to his universe. And a Rick with a portal gun without a Morty is a danger to himself.” Rick looked around. “Uhh.. Do we even have any more?”

“You’re not seriously considering handing this punk-” Another Rick interjected.

“What other option do we have? Look, if he kills it, it’s his fault. I’m not having the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Ricks up my ass on this one.” Rick stood up, and strode across the room.

“Yeah, and what about the Morty Order for Respectful Ownership and Niceness?” Another Rick interjected.

The Rick walking across the room tossed his hands in the air in annoyance. “Screw those morons. What’s worse, a loose Rick or a dead Morty?” He opened a door to the side of the room, and called out. “Get me Daycare Rick. See if we have anymore orphan Mortys.”

C-137 was still holding the portal gun like a weapon when Daycare Rick walked through the doors.

“I got one left, but it’s a baby. His Rick went haywire and killed his Beth and Jerry. His Summer’s still alive I think, but in an Earth orphanage or something, I didn’t really pay attention.” Daycare Rick shoved a baby wrapped in a light yellow blanket into C-137’s arms. “There you go, buddy. Try not to kill it before it develops those good brainwaves.”

C-137 stared at the baby blankly. “What the hell? Is this Bethany?”

“No, dipshit, it’s your Morty.” Daycare Rick rolled his eyes and took a swig from his flask. “Who the hell is this guy? We got a- a- another brain damaged Rick on our hands or something?”

“We’re done with you, leave.” One of the Council Ricks waved Daycare Rick out of the room. “Someone give C-137 a language chip implant and send him home.”

C-137 stared at baby Morty and allowed one of the Ricks to stick him with a needle, presumably implanting the language chip. His new Morty was then stuck with the same needle, and the two were ushered out through a portal.

Morty took the goggles off his head and stared up at the ceiling above his bed. He was getting less and less surprised by the things the goggles were showing him, but he was still a little… bummed out? At the confirmation that he wasn’t his Rick’s first Morty. He checked the time on his phone. 4:00 pm. He still had two hours before he needed to be at work today. Sighing, he put the goggles back on his head.

Rick was probably in his mid thirties. Morty was standing next to him, probably in his late teens. The two were standing in what looked to be a motel room. Rick looked significantly more inebriated than usual, and he had a guitar strapped across him.

“Alright, M-morty. We’re gonna, we’re gonna… Get ready for this, Morty, this is gonna be the best concert of your life, Morty.” Rick strummed a few chords and grinned.

Morty just nodded, looking bored. “Do you have any more K-lax?”

Rick scoffed. “Who do you think I am, Morty? Like, like we’re gonna go to a concert _sober,_ Morty. No. I said, I said, didn’t I? This is gonna be the best concert of your life.”

Morty sighed. “Well, I’m gonna pre-game a bit.” He stuck his arm down further than it should have gone into a small backpack and pulled out a bag of Kalaxian crystals. He crushed one under an empty liquor bottle and snorted a line. He gasped as it hit him and stood up. “Shit dawg! That, that shit… Worth breaking through the embargo line at the Collaxion Nebula, right, Rick?” He grabbed Rick by the shoulders and grinned wildly. “It’s good!”

Rick laughed. “Yeah, just don’t ruin those brainwaves, M-Morty, huh?” Rick put his hands on either side of Morty’s head. “I need you, babe- baby, I need those babies to keep me out of trouble, right?” He leaned in and planted a kiss on Morty’s forehead, then ruffled his hair. “Don’t want Grandpa going to prison, do you?”

Morty cringed. “Call yourself Grandpa again, I’m gonna puke.” He shoved Rick away and laughed. “Hey, I need your brainwaves too, Rick. Probably especially after this last time, right? I gotta be on a couple government’s hit lists after what I did to the Bluclarian Galaxy, huh?” Morty’s grin spread ear to ear. Rick looked a little uncomfortable. Morty laughed at that, clutching his stomach and doubling over. “Shit, your face! Hahaha, last time you dump me on some crappy little moon, huh? Not so much of an idiot I can’t build a fission bomb, huh? Think you need my brainwaves ‘cause you’re some sort of drug dealer, Rick? I’m an intergalactic terrorist, dawg! Think all those battles during the war were terrorism? Think that petty shit counts as war crime?” Morty’s face shifted from humor to pain in a heartbeat. “We blew up an entire universe, Rick. You think I’m here for _you?_ Fuck that. When Q-Zeta-19 burned, _I_ was the one who lit the fire. Think just ‘cause it’s _you_ the council blames that you’re the only one anyone’s looking for?”

Rick’s expression was impassive, but Morty was sobbing.

“Think when you ditched me on that moon that you were saving me, Rick?” Morty clutched at his lab coat, eyes wild with memory and K-lax. “When you went back to see your Beth, have a nice life, wait for her to have her own Morty, what was I supposed to do? I didn’t have a Rick to cover _my_ brainwaves! But _you_ had the _real_ C-137 Morty, didn’t you? Not some baby they tossed on you when you were 19. You had a _grandson._ And I was left fighting off monsters on my own!” He stumbled backwards and sat down on the couch.

Rick put his guitar to the side and sat down next to Morty. “Shit, dawg.” He put a hand on Morty’s shoulder. “You’re fucked up. No more K-lax for you.”

“Screw you, Rick!” Morty punched him in the stomach, causing RIck to wheeze pitifully. A moment later, Morty sighed and relaxed into the couch. “I’ve met so many other Ricks and Mortys. Most Mortys are stammering idiots. So, why am I like this?”

Rick shook his head. “Guess we gotta give Jerry credit for something, then, huh, Morty? He raises a good kid. I just raise you.”

Morty nodded sadly. “Let’s go to the concert, Rick.”

They stood. Rick stuck the bag of Kalaxian crystals back inside his backpack. “No more of this.”

Morty pouted. “Can we at least smoke some DMT or something before we go?”

Rick shrugged. “You can smoke whatever you want, I don’t give a shit.”

Morty frowned as he rifled through his bag. “Great parenting, Rick.”

Rick grinned. “Te amo, Chiquito.”

Morty scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

Back to reality. Goggles off. Morty sat up, stunned. Not only was he not his Rick’s first Morty, but the two from Rick’s memories were significantly closer than Morty was to his Rick. Nevermind the fact that Rick’s first Morty was a pretty messed up kid, Morty was jealous. That probably wasn’t the message he was supposed to gather from that vision, but whatever.

That Morty had an equal standing with Rick.

That Morty didn’t stutter.

That Morty knew so much about Rick’s life because he had been a part of it.

Rick had never said he loved Morty. Not once. But _that_ Morty was _chiquito_ and went to concerts and knew how to build fission bombs.

Morty stared at the goggles for a long moment, then tossed them to the side. “I’m gonna get ready for work,” he mumbled to himself. Maybe he’d watch another when he got home that night. Maybe not. Maybe he’d never watch another one of Rick’s memories again.


	5. Oh the people you'll be

Long day. Long night. Morty was tired, drunk, and ready to jerk off and fall asleep. He had walked the fifteen minutes it took to walk to work, anticipating being drunk later. When the uber driver dropped him off at the front door of his apartment complex, the poor girl had to come around and open the door for him, he was too drunk to figure it out.

_“Whiskey is my kinda lullaby,”_ Morty sang softly to himself as he walked up a flight of stairs. He fumbled with the key before finally getting it, then he tossed his bar kit and keys in a basket by the door, not really caring if anything broke or got scratched. He toed off his shoes and pulled off his pants, tossing them somewhere across the room before falling backwards into bed. He was tired. Maybe he’d skip jerking off and just crash where he lay. He really was turning into a Sanchez.

_Mom…_ He hadn’t spoken to her in forever. Honestly, Beth was happier without her children around. As much as she really did love them, it was clear to everyone that she became a much more adjusted, self-fulfilled person when she was on her own. Rick leaving had been the catalyst. She’d divorced Jerry and left to pursue her medical career. Summer left after that, and Morty followed. Only Jerry seemed worse off alone, but four out of five isn’t bad. Morty was better off without Rick, too. At least, that’s what he insisted to himself as he felt around his bed for the goggles he’d abandoned earlier.

He couldn’t find them.

Sighing, Morty sat up and pushed himself out of bed to turn on the light. He should at least put them back in the box. It would be horrible if they broke.

He still couldn’t find them.

Frowning, Morty pulled the comforter off his bed and shook it out, hoping the goggles would tumble free. Nothing.

_Did I move them from the bed?_

He was pretty sure he’d left them on the bed. Just in case, he checked the box, under the bed, in his sock drawer, anything he could think of.

That’s when he started to panic.

“I have them.” A voice from behind him called out.

Morty turned around dazedly, drunken eyes struggling to focus on the figure in front of him. “Jessica?”

“Genetically matching pairs of eyes, huh?” She inspected the goggles. “What if we broadened the scope? One half genetic similarity… I could find your mom, your dad, your sister. What about a quarter similarity? Could I even find your grandpa?” She looked at Morty expectantly. “I know the answer. Yeah, of course I can. Wouldn’t even have to trace his brainwaves. That’s good, ‘cause I can’t. He must have gotten a new Morty.”

Morty blinked slowly, trying to shake the shock and alcohol from his brain. “Whaa…?”

Jessica shrugged, and tossed the goggles to Morty, who fumbled and caught them. She then pulled out a gun and pointed it square at his face. “But _before_ I find Rick Sanchez, _before_ I turn him in- he’s got quite the bounty on his head, you know- I want to know everything there is about him. Really, any tiny bit of knowledge. There’s people, well, _aliens,_ out there who’d pay top dollar just for a bit of knowledge on Rick’s past. Especially stuff about the Council of Ricks. Can you imagine? Turning in not just one Rick, but _millions?_ What if we could catch them while they were still children? Better yet, kill your great grandparents. Wipe out the entire Sanchez line.”

Morty felt sick. “Wait, Jessica-”

“I know, I know.” She interrupted. “If we kill them before they’ve committed their crimes, they won’t have a bounty. _But,_ if we can use the information in these goggles to prove to the galactic federation of any given universe that Rick Sanchez _will_ threaten the safety of their universe, I might just make a tidy profit.” She laughed. “ D’ya like how I just explained my entire evil plan? Like a movie villain? I always wanted to do that. Except, I’m only the villain to _you,_ aren’t I? To everyone else, I’m the hero that finally wipes out Rick Sanchez, who’s pretty much the passive nihilist Hitler of the universe.” She gestured Morty forward. “Come with me. Don’t think a Morty’s worth nothing. After I get what I need from you, I’m turning you in too. You destroyed Earth C-137. By trying to _rape_ me, no less. I don’t have any empathy for you, Morty Smith. I’m sending you and your grandfather back to the galactic federation of C-137 where you can rot in prison.”

Morty just walked forward where she showed him, too stunned to respond. Jessica lead him downstairs, and down to her car, where she handcuffed him and shoved him into the back seat. Morty’s head was spinning… spinning… spinning…

He was blacking out…

******

Morty woke up with a massive hangover, wrists restrained by metal braces, and a metal band ran around his chest as well, keeping him stationary in a chair. That’s all he knew by touch. He couldn’t see what was going on, his vision was an opaque, green blur. He could hear voices in the background.

_“This_ is Rick Sanchez’s grandson?” A male voice scoffed. “Look at his brainwave pattern, it’s flat. I thought he was supposed to be opposite Sanchez, what’s this wreck?”

“I don’t really know.” Jessica’s voice replied. “Maybe it’s all the drugs? He must have been hypomanic, which… I guess technically would be the opposite of Sanchez. He’s got a ton of Prozac in his blood, see? And Klonopin… and… what’s that? _Aripiprazole??_ That’s fucked. No wonder he stutters. Tardive Dyskinesia. I’m surprised Rick let him take all this stuff, knowing it would mess with his brainwaves. Maybe that’s why he ditched him, his brain just conked out.”

The male voice hummed. “Well, we better get him off all that stuff now, before it does further damage. To sell this kid, we need him to look and behave as much like Sanchez as possible. Can we change his last name? If he’s got the last name, they might buy it better.”

“The Council of Ricks have been pretty clear that this is Morty _Smith.”_ Jessica refuted. “Very few Morties have ever borne the last name Sanchez. Usually only ones whose Jerries left them while Beth was pregnant. And C-137’s original Morty, of course.”

The man sighed. “Yeah, alright. Guess we can’t pretend this kid is that Morty. Is he at least C-137’s biological grandson?”

Jessica scoffed. “Of course not. This is C-137 Morty number 3, and it’s the best we can do for now until we can find out what happened to Morty Sanchez.”

A quiet hum came to life around Morty’s head, and Jessica and the man got quiet.

“He must be waking up,” the man whispered.

Soft footsteps drew towards Morty, and Jessica spoke. “Alright, any second the machine should boot up, and we’ll get to see exactly what you see in those goggles. Ready, Morty Smith?”

Ready or not, the greenish haze in front of Morty’s eyes was turning white. He could feel himself falling, spinning into the dream-like state that was Rick’s memory.

“Aw yeah, bay-bee!” Rick was probably in his early forties, Morty in his mid-twenties. Birdperson and Squanchy were there too, all four were charging full throttle down a river in a boat, wind whipping their hair and/or feathers back. Loud sirens wailed behind them as police boats kept a heavy chase. Rick was leaning over the bow, eyes blown wide with mania. Morty was gripping the back of his shirt in a half-hearted attempt to prevent his psychotic parental-figure from tumbling over the edge and getting chewed up by the propellers.

Squanchy was yelling obscenities that mostly consisted of the word “squanch” back at the police while Birdperson drove, looking fed-up with his friends’ immaturity.

“Rick, don’t do that,” Morty chastised as Rick stuck his hands in the water. “You’re gonna fall off.”

Rick laughed, but turned around to face Morty, gripping him tightly by the shoulders with a wild grin. “M-Morty. D’you know what this means, Morty? We’ve got it _made_ Morty! We can do whatever we want from now until forever, Morty! We’re gonna, gonna do all sorts of things, baby, we’re- we’re gonna run around and see all kinds of shit, get into all kinds of shit, Morty. Just you and me forever, babe. Just Rick and Morty forever.” He really did look manic. Goggles Morty wondered if that really was the true difference between him and Rick. Hypo versus hyper mania.

Morty smiled weakly. “Yeah, Rick. It’s pretty great.”

Rick nodded giddily and wrapped his arms around Morty tightly. He tangled his fingers in Morty’s hair and sighed. “Te necesito, nene. Nos- n-nos vamos… a-a-a la buena vida, Morty. Rick and Morty para siempre. Cien años, Rick and Morty.”

Morty nodded, embracing Rick back with a strange expression on his face. “A hundred years is a long time, Rick. Could you really love a Morty that much?”

“Con todo mi alma. With all my heart,” Rick replied sincerely.

Tears sprung to Morty’s eyes and he looked pained for a moment before he scowled and muttered, “Wow, Rick. That’s really stupid.”

Squanchy was facing the other direction. Birdperson was too busy to notice. Rick was too emotional and probably drugged.

Morty reached into his pocket and withdrew a small device with a singular button. He shut his eyes and buried his face in the crook of Rick’s neck when he pressed it, and everything lurched. Deceleration launched Rick and Morty onto the bow, Squanchy tumbled over backwards, and Birdperson slammed his head onto the steering wheel. The boat didn’t stop, but it slowed enough for the police to easily catch up with them before Birdperson regained control of the boat and sped them up again. But the damage was done.

Morty sprung into action, shielding himself with Rick’s body as the police opened fire. Birdperson and Squanchy searched for their guns, which were nowhere to be found. Rick just looked confused, clinging to Morty with question in his eyes.

Morty pulled Rick forward when the police stopped shooting in response to the crew’s surrender. He called out over the boat’s megaphone, “I have Birdperson, Squanchy, and Rick Sanchez. I will release them all to you, unharmed, if you pardon Morty Sanchez for all crimes, past and present. You know me, without Rick I’m harmless. Let me go back to earth, and I won’t destroy Rick Sanchez’s brain.” He pulled out a gun and held it to Rick’s temple. “You want him, don’t you? You can use him to find any other Rick in the Multiverse! Give me the bounty on his head, and let me go.”

Rick looked devastated, and utterly betrayed. “Morty…”

The police spoke back to him through their own megaphone. “You’re Morty Sanchez of Dimension C-137? We can’t let you go.”

“Do you understand me?” Morty bellowed. “I will _kill_ Rick Sanchez. I’ll shoot him in the brain, right here! Do you want that? Fine! I’d rather him die anyway! I’ll fucking blow his brains out just for the thrill of it!” Morty’s expression was one of pure rage. It was nothing like Morty had ever seen on his face before.

“Careful!” The police warned. “We are armed and ready to shoot, make no sudden movements!”

“I’m gonna count down!” Morty screamed. “I’m gonna count down from three, and Rick Sanchez is DEAD! He’s fucking DEAD!” He paused, and got no response. “FINE! THREE!” He pressed the gun tighter against Rick’s temple. “TWO!” He cocked the gun. “ONE!” He was a hair from pulling the trigger when the police called out over the megaphone.

“Wait!”

Morty froze, panting heavily. Rick was limp in his arms, still hugging Morty tightly as he waited for death.

“Give us Rick Sanchez, and you can go.” The negotiator conceded.

“You’ll pardon the marks against me?” Morty asked.

The negotiator sighed. “I’ll give you the bounty for all three fugitives.” The megaphone cut off for a moment. When the cop spoke again, his voice was dull. “Just run.”

Morty nodded curtly and pulled out his credit account device. “Send me the money now.” He waited until the numbers rose on his screen before he shot a portal and shoved Rick towards the police. There was a smattering of gunfire as Morty dove through the portal, but none of it hit him. The portal closed a moment later, and Rick, Squanchy, and Birdperson were left alone to be arrested.

His world spun back to green, and Morty was in the chair again.

“Morty Sanchez escaped, we know that. Where did he go? Why was that significant?” Jessica huffed.

_Yeah…_ A thought struck Morty. Of course it was significant. Everything must be significant. It didn’t seem that way, but… Yeah. Knowing Rick, he wasn’t just sharing his feelings for the hell of it. Especially through a device like this that could put him in danger. Everything was significant. Everything had a purpose. Probably a selfish purpose, too. Something that helped Rick in some way. Was Morty supposed to figure it out? Would it be clear in the end? If Rick thought Morty was intelligent enough to piece together such a convoluted puzzle, maybe _he_ was the idiot.

The green panels of the goggles began to turn white again, and Morty began to spin again.

_Ah geez… here we go…_


	6. Another Morty Bites the Dust

Everything was fine. Rick was older, closer to the age Morty knew him. Fifties, maybe. Morty looked like… Morty. Probably 12-13 years old. Clearly not the same guy as before. Still, it couldn’t have been himself, Morty didn’t remember any of this.

Morty’s arms were full of smooth spheres, and he trotted next to a similarly burdened Rick, smiling. “Y-you know, Rick? I’m starting to feel pretty good about all these little, ah- these adventures we go on. You know, maybe I, maybe I could someday, in the future, you know, someday could… Well, I mean, you’re not gonna be around forever, Rick, and I’m uneducated, un- I never went to school Rick! But, that’s okay I think, I wouldn’t mind, I mean, I’d like-”

“Haha, you’re saying someday you’d like to take up the-- the family business, huh, Morty? Gonna pick up where I left off, step into my shoes?” Rick beamed down at his grandson. “It’s only the best business in the world, Morty. Only the greatest thrill of your life.”

“You know that’s what I’m after, Rick. Dopamine. Adrenaline. All that good shit.” Morty looked down at the spheres as he said it, a shadow coming to his eyes.

Rick played it off. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, boy-ee! Gettin’ th-that muh-muh-money!” Affecting a stutter didn’t sound quite right when you had a stutter yourself. It was probably the most obvious thing Morty had inherited from Rick. “Gotta, gotta live for the hell of it, Morty. Gotta live for the shhURPsheer _hell_ of it!”

Morty looked like he was thinking hard. “Whatever you gotta do, right Rick? That’s what you’re always saying, isn’t it? Morals and, aaaa-and a conscience just get in the way. O-okay. Yeah. I can see it. The-the universe, it… I mean, it doesn’t give a shit about me, does it? No reason to-to feel guilty about anything you do.”

Rick nodded, not really paying attention. “Totes malotes, dawg.”

“The most demented shi- the most demented shit, right?” Morty fell silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, lower. “I think I’ll be okay, then. It doesn’t matter. If I live or die.”

That small confession, those few words managed to catch Rick’s attention. “What? You what? What are you talking about?” He stopped walking, staring Morty down. “Nah, dawg- d- son, no. Be scared, Morty. Be fucking scared. Things is- things are coming to eat you, Morty. Monsters. Giant fucking monsters gonna come and eat you, Morty.”

Morty nodded, looking content. “Always, Rick.”

It was Rick’s turn to look anxious. “Nah- nah, Morty, look at me! I-I-I pulled you out of school, Morty, you’ve got no friends! Nobody likes you, Morty, you know, you- you- you know-”

Morty frowned. “What are you doing? Wha-what is this about, Rick? I’m just trying to, man you know I got anxiety. I’m just trying to-to be at peace with the world, damn son.”

“The world isn’t peace, Morty! It’s- it’s chaos and horror and things eating each other then turning around and shitting them out and something else comes along and-and eats the shit, Morty.” Rick glanced at Morty nervously. “Anxiety is _good,_ Morty! That’s, that’s… shit, dawg that’s the only logical response!”

Morty’s breathing was getting ragged. He tried to calm himself down. “No, no, Rick, we’re gonna be okay. And a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-nd if if we’re n-not, then, then-” He dropped the spheres and clutched at his hair, his shirt, hooked his fingers over the inside of his mouth. “Th-then, then, then-”

Rick calmed down when he saw Morty spiraling into a panic attack. He dropped his own spheres and patted Morty on the back. “Yep. There ya go. That’s the Morty I know.”

Morty fumbled around in his pockets. Rick knew exactly what he was looking for. The second Morty pulled the little orange pill bottle out, Rick snatched it away. “Wha- why?” was all Morty managed.

Rick stared at them for a moment, shrugged, dumped several into his mouth and rinsed them down with alcohol. He stuck the rest in his pocket, and set about picking up all the spheres he could carry. “This- this is gonna have to be it, then. Gonna have to leave half these babies behind, you’re not gonna be able to carry them, _Morty.”_

He was right, Morty was trembling. But he held out his hand for Rick to stop, closed his eyes, and seemed to force himself to relax. “It’s okay, Rick.”

“Whoa.” Rick seemed shocked. Goggles Morty was pretty surprised too. Usually, it took him well over a day to get over all the lingering symptoms and side effects of a major panic attack.

Gingerly, Morty bent over and picked up his share of the spheres, then started walking back to wherever they were going. Presumably the ship. “It’s just seratonin, right? I can logically think my way around it. Where’s the ship? We probably should grind one of these and get it in the centrifuge today if we want to be able to check out the DNA before we prepare them for ingestion, right? Or just… I mean, you could use meat tenderizer and soap, couldn’t you? Enzymes, then, then something to eat at the lipid layer? Real highschool shit, Rick, I don’t know why you don’t have me just do it for you.”

Rick looked crushed. “Oh shit, Morty…”

“Rick Sanchez!” A non-human voice boomed out from behind them. A fleet of giant frogs were leaping towards them at an alarming rate.

Rick sighed and cast an apathetic glance towards his grandson before dropping the spheres and dashing off. Morty followed close behind, but the frogs were catching up. They were closing in around them, overtaking Rick and bearing down threateningly. One of them lashed out with it’s tongue and hit Morty in his right eye. He screamed and tumbled to the ground. Rick shot a portal and dove into it without a second glance.

The last thing Goggles Morty saw was Morty’s horrified expression with one eye swollen and bleeding before the portal closed in front of him, leaving him to the frogs.

Morty’s heart dropped. What happened to him? What happened to that Morty? Was he eaten by the frogs? Those things seemed more intent on catching Rick than eating them. Would they arrest Morty? Or did they perhaps just leave him for dead out there, stranded in another dimension without a Rick or a portal gun to help him?

The vision ended. He would never know, because Rick never knew.

The male voice huffed. “Alright, so what was that, then?”

“We were right,” Jessica replied. “Morties can lose their special brainwaves if they get too… stable.”

That realization hit Morty right in the gut. That’s why Rick had left? How old had he been? 17? Right after he started Prozac. Rick hadn’t known he was taking it. He’d never mentioned it, didn’t think it was important. To think it was the reason Rick left him…

What sort of tradeoff would that be? If Morty had known at the time, what would he have chosen? Adventures with Rick, or his own well being?

Shit.

White. Dizzy. Gut-dropping sensation of terminal velocity. Morty was staring at himself, about his age, sitting in a mostly empty tavern next to Rick. A bunch of other Ricks and their Morties were wandering around. Actually- Morty looked closer. It seemed to only be Ricks and Morties. There was what seemed to be a girl version of him sitting awkwardly next to her Rick while normal Morties stared at her curiously.

_Defective Y chromosome._ Morty thought to himself. _She defaulted to female as a zygote. She’s still genetically identical to me otherwise._

He patted himself on the back over that smart realization before becoming distracted by what seemed to be neither a Morty nor a Rick. The closer Morty looked, the more he realized she looked… related. Like a sibling, maybe. Maybe she was another sibling that most Morties and Summers didn’t have. Weird since there weren’t any Summers around. Morty also noticed that she seemed to work at the tavern. The girl approached C-137 Rick’s table.

“What, ah, wha-what can I get you, Rick?” she asked dully, glancing over at Morty’s curious look.

“Just… J-just scotch and soda, whatever’s in the well.” Rick paid her very little attention. He was pouring over notes and sketches of something.

“Gotcha. Morty?” She looked at him expectantly.

“Uh… Wow, so, are you like s-some other Morty’s sibling or something? Like- like are you like my sister?” Morty ignored her prompt for an order and gazed at her with starry eyes.

“What?” She gave him an odd look. “No, I-I’m- what? No. I’m Marlene. Marlene S-Sanchez?” She glanced at Rick in confusion.

Rick looked up from his notebook to briefly glance at Marlene before raising his eyebrow in amusement and looking back down. “Some questions are better left unanswered, Morty. Tell her- uuUURP- tell her what you drink.”

Morty looked between Marlene and Rick, trying and failing to understand before giving up and ordering. “Colorado Bulldog.”

Marlene nodded slowly and walked away.

Morty went back to his notes as well. “So, you- you didn’t give your Morty a-a portal gun or anything? So he’s- so what’s the thing again?”

Rick sighed. “You know, _Morty,_ it’s really none of your business. You-you know, you’re being a real pain in my ass, Morty, and I can’t even use you- I mean, your brainwaves are already useless, so what are you even good for, _Morty?”_

Morty fell silent for a long moment before he frowned, and pointed at Rick’s diagram. “Why would you wire those in- in sequence? I-I mean, put a little redundancy into your work, Rick, you- I mean how many times has the battery life of your portal gun been an- the issue, you know?”

Rick stopped sketching to shoot an annoyed look at Morty before going right back to what he was doing.

It was another moment before Morty spoke again. “He-hey, Rick? You-you put the molecular designation for carbon nano-, ah, nanotubes, but… I mean, I’m not from your universe, but… those things unzip pretty-pretty easily, you know. Don’t you think the charge from the- from actually going through the portal would damage the integrity of the device? I mean, i-i-i-i-it only takes one little molecule before they all just- zoop- just unzip, you know? Then what are you gonna do, huh? What are you gonna do?”

Rick looked vaguely annoyed again for a moment before closing his book. “You’re really gonna, _Morty,_ you’re really gonna be thinking you know shit about engineering, Morty? Why don’t you go bother your own Rick, Morty?”

Morty looked embarrassed. “W-well, no, Rick, I for sure couldn’t design anything like, like that or anything, but… You designed it, and I can’t do that, but- I mean, I see some flaws. That’s- that’s all.”

Marlene came back, tray in hand. “Okay, Morty, Rick. Enjoy.”

Morty took his drink, glancing at her quickly. “Thanks Marl-...” His eyes widened suddenly, and Goggles Morty could see some unknown realization hit him hard. He glanced behind him at the female Morty and went pale. “Oh my god!” He leapt up from his seat, looking wildly around the pub in horror.

“There is no god, Morty,” Rick said, staring down at his drink. “And that’s why she’s here.”

There was a sudden wail of sirens, and a couple Ricks in police-like uniform showed up with their Morties in tow.

One of them was holding a scanner, which he pocketed a moment later with a frustrated look at Morty. “False alarm. Not an intruder. Just some _Morty_ who thinks he’s hot shit all- all of the sudden.”

The other police Rick rolled his eyes. “Enjoy your fucking life, kid- kid-, ah, Morty. Gonna be- being smart, I mean, it’s shit, Morty. It’s shit. Nobody likes it. So, uh…” He belched loudly and walked away, dragging his own Morty by the shirt.

C-137 Rick sighed and stood, downing his drink quickly and tucking his notebook under his arm. “Welp…” He started walking towards the door. “Nice meeting you, Morty. I guess. Bummer about all that shit. Hope you- ah- got a plan or something, Morty.”

That was it. The vision ended.

“What the hell was that?” Jessica snapped. “We already knew Morties lost their idiot waves!”

Morty knew. He knew in his gut what the point of that vision was, and his hypothesis was only strengthened by the fact that he was smart enough to figure it out.

Morties got smart. Somewhere down the line, Morties got really fucking smart. And that could only mean bad things for the Ricks who stayed with them past their expiration date.

No wonder Rick had run off. If Morty brainwaves went from helpful to neutral to dangerous, a Rick would be wise to ditch a neutral Morty. Just a ticking time bomb. A disaster waiting to happen.

Morty smiled. _I’m gonna be able to solve this puzzle after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confused? Don't worry about it. She- it's... It's probably not important.
> 
>  
> 
> HAHAHAHAHAHAH how awful.


	7. Rickstaurant at the end of the universe

_Oh shit. Oh my god. Oh my god, no way. No way. No way!_

Morty knew what to do. He knew what to do. Everything was clicking into place in his brain like little magnets falling into line. If only he could get away from Jessica, he had his answer.

Before he could start thinking about escape, the screen was turning white again.

Something was different. Morty tried to gasp, but he couldn’t move his mouth. The Rick in the vision was staring directly at him. Was it a message? Like… like something pre-recorded?

Oh. No, of course. Genetically matching pairs of eyes. The Morty in this vision was him. He was looking through the eyes of a past version of himself.

And it looked familiar…

_OH JESUS NO!_

Morty tried to back away, but he couldn’t move. Because in the past, he hadn’t moved. He was going to relive this… this… Oh, god!

“We’re gonna have to go through interdimensional customs.” Rick explained, holding the megaseeds. “So…” He looked away awkwardly, handing the seeds to Morty. “You’re gonna have to do me a real solid.”

“Uh oh…” Morty took the seeds. They were huge, sharp, covered in splintery ridges, and… just fucking huge. Morty’s stomach turned in remembrance.

“When we get to customs, I’m gonna need you to take these seeds into the bathroom,” Rick continued.

Morty paled, his heart pounding against his chest.

“And I’m gonna need you to put them waaay up inside your butthole, Morty.” Rick gestured crudely to explain.

“My butt?” Morty asked, because he had asked in the past. He tried to tune the rest out as Rick explained. He tried not to think about it as they made their way to customs, went into the bathroom, and…

_Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy!_

This was worse than having his legs broken. This was… slow and humiliating and difficult and so so so painful.

Only after Morty had… hidden the seeds did the vision end.

“Well, that was horrifyingly graphic,” Jessica huffed. “I guess those seeds are important? Megaseeds, huh? Okay, write that down. We can analyze them later.”

Morty genuinely wondered whether or not Rick had shown him that vision just to mess with him. It seemed like something he’d do. Afterall, he already knew about the megaseeds. He knew where to find them, how to harvest them, and, unfortunately, what happened if you left them inside you too…

Oh. _Oh. OH!_ Morty felt like he could jump with excitement if he weren’t strapped to a chair and still ridiculously hungover.

He calmed himself, waiting. What else would he learn? What else would Rick teach him? He felt like his life was really about to start. Things were going to get so much better from here.

He waited on the figurative edge of his seat for the next vision to begin.

He continued waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting. Nothing happened.

“Must be over,” Jessica said, taking the goggles off Morty’s eyes. “Time to find Rick and Morty Sanchez.”

_No, wait…_ Morty understood the reason now, but… He had no idea how to act. There had to be more. There _had_ to.

Then, a thought struck him. A horrible, sadistic thought. “I know where to find Morty Sanchez.”

Jessica and the man stared at him briefly before going back to messing with the goggles.

“No, no, really.” Morty tugged at the restraints on his wrists. “I can take you to him.”

Jessica squinted skeptically at him. “Where is he?”

“In Mexico.” It was just a hunch, but it made perfect sense. Rick was so smart, of course he managed to hide every bit of information in the memories. He was so smart- but Morty was gonna be smart too. He knew exactly how.

Jessica took a step closer to him. “Where in Mexico?”

“I can show you.” Morty leaned forward pleadingly. “I’ll…” He bit back his guilt. “I’ll help you capture him. I know how to do it.

“Why should we trust you?” the man asked.

Morty thought about it. “Because… I just watched my Rick leave his Morty to die. And I’m kinda hoping you’ll let me go if I side with you.”

A few hours later, they were all on a plane to Mexico after a quick stop back at Morty’s apartment for him to pack his bag. A few hours after that, they landed in Tijuana. Morty knew exactly where to go. He had seen the city name on the licence plate of the car. He even knew the part of Rio Tijuana he needed to go to, because a cursory internet search showed pictures of the two girls who had drowned.

Finally unshackled and followed closely by a gun-toting Jessica and the nameless guy, Morty approached an old house. The brick walls were painted over with a chipped blue, and vines grew steadily up the sides. The front door stood slightly ajar, but the garage was locked with some sci-fi looking padlock. Morty Sanchez definitely lived here.

There was no way they could break into the garage, and that’s almost certainly where Sanchez was. Morty wondered if there was something he could say to-

“Quienes están aquí?” A voice called out from within the garage.

“Uhh…” Morty didn’t really speak Spanish. “Y-yo soy… um… de la policía? Porque… ah… Q-Zeta-19!”

There was a long moment of silence before Sanchez replied. “Morty, you’re such a fucking idiot.”

Jessica stepped forward. “Morty Sanchez of dimension C-137, you’re under arrest for intergalactic terrorism, interuniversal holocaust, and espionage.”

There was another long pause. “You’re bad at lists. You gonna end with the most common, boring crime? Espionage? Really? I blew up a whole universe and you finish on _espionage?”_

Jessica scowled. “We have a lock on your brainwaves, as well as your genetics from our willing volunteer, here. Open up the door.”

“Why the shit would I do that?” Sanchez laughed. “I can wait you out. I got a whole fuckin’... little microverse in here making my food and power and… and dancing around doing little dances and festivals and shit. I mean… worst case I just say sayonara to this universe and hop on into that one forever.”

“You know what I never understood about Rick’s microverse?” Mort mused. “Why did we need to wear the antenna? I-I mean, we already look alien to them, right? Like- like-like what difference does some little… little pipecleaners and puffballs make?”

“He’s just a drama queen is why,” Sanchez sighed. “Same reason- did he show you the slow ramp? The insanely slow ramp that only looks cool if there’s like… Star Wars music in the background? Same bullshit. Coulda just made the ship shorter, wouldn’t have had to deal with the ramp nonsense in the first place.” He sighed again. “Alright, Morty. Duck and cover.”

A second later, the garage door burst open, and an old version of Morty sprung out firing lasers. As Morty hit the deck, he had to admit Sanchez looked pretty badass.

Now, he only had to wait. Morty had figured this one out after watching Rick and Morty in the tavern. Constructive interference. If he got close enough to Sanchez without getting shot, their brainwaves should build on each other and-

Sirens. Perfect. Dozens of Ricks and their Morties poured out of a portal dressed in Council uniform.

“Morty Sanchez of dimension C-137!” one of them yelled.

“You’re under arrest for crimes against Ricks!” another interjected.

“Get on the ground!”

Morty Sanchez looked shocked. Jessica and the man looked shocked.

Morty’s heart pounded as he sprung into action. _Oh god, oh god, oh god…_

This was horrible. This was cruel. This was… probably what Rick had planned all along. Morty fished inside his backpack and pulled out the gun Rick had left him. In the commotion, he pointed it at a Council Morty. “Come with me.”

The Council Morty looked towards his Rick for guidance, but they were all too busy apprehending Morty Sanchez. With no other options, he followed Morty inside the house.

“Get undressed.” Morty commanded.

Council Morty made a distressed noise in the back of his throat, and glanced at the door like his Rick might burst through and save him.

“I said, get undressed!” Morty cocked the gun threateningly.

Council Morty cried pathetically as he stripped down to his underwear. Morty did the same, and quickly dressed himself in the Council uniform before running back outside to lose himself in the crowd.

One of the Ricks gestured him over. “M-MOOURpty, don’t get lost, you idiot.”

The world seemed silent as Morty Sanchez went down. A Rick grabbed Morty forcefully by the arm, and tugged him through the portal. Morty knew what would happen next. Just as they were taking Morty Sanchez away, another wail of sirens went off. Morty’s stolen Rick looked at him in annoyance, then tossed him a portal gun and told him to get lost.

“WeEER- welp, you’re useless now, _Morty.”_ The stolen Rick scoffed. “Shit, I’m gonna need to go shopping for a new one. Maybe I’ll get one in blue.” He muttered to himself as he walked off.

Morty stared down at the portal gun in his hands, shocked beyond belief that it had worked so smoothly. It was so easy. Aside from the naked, confused Morty he had left stranded in Mexico, but… Don’t think about it. Wasn’t that what Rick had always told him?

Morty entered the coordinates, and fired a portal.

He had quite the adventure ahead of him.


	8. Total Rickspective Vortex

Morty bounced around dimensions for a while, hoping to lose any trace of the Galactic Federation, bounty hunters, or the Council of Ricks. He had two stops in his mind that he needed to go to, but… Why rush? When you stood back and looked at it, the multiverse was beautiful. And with the power Morty had with the portal gun in his hand, the bullet gun in his back pocket, and the goggles around his neck, the whole multiverse seemed like a sandbox. He could build anything he wanted, do anything he wanted, be anyone he wanted.

Morty spent time uncounted as a vagrant, wandering the multiverse in search of fun and distraction. Why rush this? Why give up this amazing freedom?

He cackled, pursued by slug-like cops in solar-powered cars as he sped away in a stolen spaceship, backseat full of escargot.

He held his breath in a world with an oxygen content so high the free-radicals were deathly carcinogenic to his lungs, but the sunset burned blue and white and purple against the milky sky if you could sit long enough to watch.

He swam in a sea of liquid nitrogen, scarring his skin in the chemical cold, but managing to feel the time dilation of a planet being stretched by a black hole. A second lasted an hour, and Morty felt an incredible zen.

However, this life couldn’t last forever. Morty had something he needed to do if he ever wanted to set foot within the jurisdiction of the Galactic Federation again. If he ever wanted to see his family again.

At long last, Morty stepped out of the portal into his home dimension. His… yeah. His home dimension. C-137. It was surreal. This was the universe he had grown up in. Tears prickled his eyes. It had been so long. Somehow- and maybe he was imagining it- C-137 _smelled_ like home. Even though he was nowhere near his house.

Morty found himself facing a house that was familiar in the way an old painting is familiar. Set against the sky, two dimensional and overbearing. The closer Morty walked to the house, the more anxious he felt and the more he wanted to turn away.

It was Rick’s childhood home.

“Quien esta aqui?” A voice shouted through the walls.

The resonance of that voice hit home. Morty felt 14 again. “It’s me.”

There was a long minute of silence before the door swung slowly open. Rick was older, heavy lines mapping his face and an air of exhaustion compressing his shoulders. “Wh-blUURg- What are you supposed to be, Uh- Uh- Disgraced Guard Morty? Got your stupid… stupid council clothes, but you’re all… looking like you got mugged and dropped in the bottom of a shitty… shitty Mexican village.”

Same Rick. Wonderful. “C-137?” Morty asked hesitantly, slight doubt holding him back.

“Yep. You too, right?” Rick scanned Morty up and down.

“Yeah.” Morty smiled.

“The one I gave the goggles to, or the one I left with a portal gun?” Rick squinted skeptically at him.

“Um… Goggles.” Morty’s smile faded. Right. Plenty of other Morties out there.

“Well shit, son. Get your ass inside, we gotta- gotta finish up this crazy- this little narrative we got going here. Lots of loose ends, Morty. Gotta tie ‘em up.” Rick grinned broadly and shuffled back inside.

Morty sighed and followed.

Rick leaned against the kitchen counter. “So… got the seeds?”

Morty withdrew a bundle of megaseeds from a satchel he wore. “Yeah. Gonna show me how to make your special brew?”

“Gr-UURP- grab one of my lab coats, I got- I got like twenty. It’s all I wear, Morty. I- I don’t think I actually have any other clothes, Morty.” Rick withdrew his flask from the pocket of one of the aforementioned lab coats and took a long draw. “And- and change out of that council uniform, you make me sick just- just looking at you.”

Morty glanced down at the battered Council Morty uniform he had stolen all those months ago. “Uhh… I don’t have any other clothes, Rick, I’ve been… Well, I haven’t been home in awhile, you know. I’ve been doing what you told me to do.”

Rick looked him up and down and sighed. “Alright, down the hall first left in the top drawer.” He gestured vaguely and sent Morty on his way.

Rick’s bedroom looked nothing like what Morty expected it to. Back in the Smith house, Rick’s bedroom walls had been covered with sketches of half-baked sci-fi gadgets, his bedside table covered with nameless alien objects, and his bed clinked when you sat on it due to the cache of empty liquor bottles stowed below.

This bedroom here was… The walls were certainly covered with taped up paper, but they seemed to be mostly band posters and photographs of people and people-like things. His bedside table was covered in pill bottles, some prescription-looking, others not so much. A guitar sat propped against a keyboard which was next to a wall of prosthetic, cyborg body parts. His bed looked like nobody had slept in it for a year.

Morty’s heart caught in his throat when one of the photographs caught his attention. Rick was young, probably about thirty, standing next to a young version of Morty’s grandma- Beth’s mom, Rachel. Rick was looking at her like she was his meaning in the universe. She was beaming at the camera, her arms around Rick’s waist.

Rick had been in love. He really had.

Perhaps more shocking were the two children who stood in front of Rick and Rachel. Morty and Beth looked to be of similar age, maybe ten-ish years old, standing awkwardly next to each other like siblings. Morty was sticking his tongue out at the camera, giving a scowling Beth rabbit ears.

That was _his_ Beth. C-137 Goggles Morty’s _mom_. She had grown up knowing Morty Sanchez. More than that, she had grown up as his _sister._

“M-Morty, you better not be touching my stuff!” Rick called from back in the kitchen.

Morty jumped, startled, and turned his attention to Rick’s top drawer. Blue shirt, brown slacks, white lab coat.

Morty dressed quickly and grinned at his reflection in Rick’s mirror. He strode back into the kitchen where Rick was setting up chemistry equipment. “I look like you, Rick.” Morty announced proudly.

Rick glanced back at him, an almost imperceptible softness coming to his eyes before he retorted, “Give it 50 years and a lifetime of alcoholism and _maybe_ you can look this fine, Morty. Grate those seeds into a powder.”

Morty did as he was told. Paint thinner, boiling and freezing, rapid fermentation of the pulp of the seeds and distillation, then crush the frozen crystals and infuse them into the alcoholic byproduct of the megaseeds- huh. Crystalline tryptamine infused alcohol, wasn’t it? No, that couldn’t be right because-

Rick shoved a glass of the clear alcohol under Morty’s nose once they had finished. “Now,” he said, “Welcome to my world.”

Morty took the glass nervously and counted silently to three before downing it. It was painful to swallow. Morty clamped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from coughing it all back up.

Rick was grinning manically at him.

Morty was shaking with anxiety as he waited for the stuff to kick in. Should be any second. Any-

“Oh my God!” Morty’s eyes were the size of baseballs as he understood- everything. “I- I- I-”

“Yeah boi!” Rick clapped his hands like an overexcited two year old. “That’s- that’s my grandson! That’s my fucking grandson!”

“I’m so smart! Wow!” Morty laughed ecstatically. “I-” Oh. Oh no. Morty’s grin slipped off his face with comical speed. “I’m depressed.” He cast his eyes to the floor.

Rick blew a raspberry and strode off into the other room. “Yeah, whatever, little bitch. Come watch TV.”

Morty felt like the world was caving in on him. Neurons were firing through his head at amazing speeds, and all it did was show him who he was, and made him understand his place in the universe.

Morty shuffled after Rick, collapsing on the couch with tears in his eyes. “Total Perspective Vortex.”

“Yeah. Haha- let them eat cake, right? ‘Cause- ‘cause of the book? Remember?” Rick turned on the TV, some inane show about something insignificant crackled to life on the ancient TV set. “Ex-trap-o-la-tion…” He pronounced each syllable.

“Why bother?” Morty stared at the screen blankly. “Why do anything, Rick? Nothing matters.”

Rick shrugged. “No reason. Also- why not do everything, Morty?”

Huh. “Morality-free.”

“M-hm.” Rick took a swig from his own flask- full of the same sort of megaseed infused alcohol. He drank it all the time. Always. It was the source of his genius. Now, Morty would take the baton.

“I could rape you.” Morty mused. “I don’t think I’d have a problem with that.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Morty, holy shit.” Rick stared at him in horror.

“That’s where Marlene Sanchez came from, isn’t it?” Morty asked in a monotone. “Some Rick fucked a Morticia.”

Rick looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, but-”

“It happens, though, doesn't it?” Morty pressed. “It happens.”

“Yeah, but-”

“What happened to my birth parents, Rick?” Morty wondered suddenly. “I’m not from C-137, so what happened? Are they alive? Is my grandfather alive? Does my universe still even exist?” Nameless emotion built up in his chest, leaving Morty’s whole body trembling. “Was I kidnapped? Did my Rick kill my family like Morty Sanchez’s Rick did? Did somebody- did somebody fuck up and Cronenberg my world like we did to this Earth? Oh my god!” So many epiphanies were slamming against Morty’s skull, he couldn’t think straight. “Your grandson- _real_ C-137, he was the one with the eyepatch, wasn’t he? He was trying to kill you specifically. It was all about revenge. You left him for dead with those frogs and he wanted to kill you for it. That was your real grandson. Oh, shit! Mom knew about all of this! C-137 Beth knew about all the dead Morties, I bet she knew you replaced her son with me! She was Morty Sanchez’s sister, but she knew she’d grow up and give birth to a whole nother Morty, didn’t she? You just- you just didn’t know who my dad was! You could have fucked up the whole timeline! I should have never been born! The whole reason we’re here is because some fucking elephant alien from the fourth dimension got the timing wrong! Shit!” Morty was hyperventilating.

“Morty-” Rick tried.

“No. No. No.” Morty calmed himself down. “Hey- I’m smart now, you know? I gotta… I gotta go get myself a Morty or something. What do Morties do when they get smart? What do I do?”

Rick didn’t answer.

Understanding hit Morty hard. “Oh… Ooohhh! Oh, shit, I’m feeling sociopathic. You know what would work? You know what would definitely fucking work? Fucked up brain waves, I could get myself a baby. I could… I could _make_ a baby.” Morty leapt up off the couch. “I could make a Marlene.” He laughed hysterically. “There are infinite universes with female Ricks who never had a Beth because they never knocked up Rachel! Infinite universes in which I could make a genetically fucked up idiot baby to camouflage my brainwaves. Productive incest, Rick. Fuck me, that’s demented.” He walked over to the kitchen to get the megaseed drink they had made. He fished around in various cabinets and drawers until he found another flask, which he filled and stuck in the pocket of his lab coat.

Rick was still sitting on the couch, just staring at Morty when he walked back in.

“Wanna come with me, old man?” Morty grinned. “One more time, Rick and Morty? One more adventure just Rick and Morty running around getting into some crazy messed up shit. Philosophical extremism, active nihilism, Morty and Rick doing all sorts of crazy awesome stuff. Sound like fun? You and me? Morty and Rick! Off on adventures in- in a crazy space car jumping around seeing all sorts of cool aliens, weird- weird things, Rick. Morty and Rick adventures again. Take two. You wanna come with me, Rick?”

Rick was still just staring in shock at his newly transformed grandson. Slowly, he uncapped his flask and took a deep draw. “Hell yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh-ho-ho my god...
> 
> Speaking of alcohol- I need a drink.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. This is Cassady. As a result of stuff I went out into the forest and me and my friends got fucked up on tequila and psychedelics. Now I came home and wrote this chapter because I feel significantly shitty about my life decisions cause my mom is crying., so here's Morty making some worse decisions. Enjoy
> 
> Is that how you spell decisions? Or like decicions... decitions...
> 
> Pick the best one and fix it for me.

A world in which Rick had never been invited to the Council. A world in which Rick had never even _heard_ of the Council. A world in which Rick had never been considered a Rick, because her name was Rita.

It was… disconcerting to say the least. Morty felt a little sickened at the thought of having to… shit. Ah, dammit. Gross. Weird. Gross and weird.

They had opted for a universe in which Rita was still in college, since she’d be closest to Morty’s age, and it would probably be easier to get her drunk enough to forget about Morty not wearing a condom.

Hmm… Conscience. Gross.

Whatever. It was necessary. Morty took a deep draw from his flask before sneaking into an astronomy class and taking a seat next to Rita. She looked… definitely like Rick. Fuck. She clearly was paying no attention to the lecture, and was opting instead to sketch diagrams into her notebook. Morty recognized the beginnings of portal technology, though he doubted she would manage to actually complete a portal gun without megaseed brew or access to other Rick’s previous scientific publications.

Morty pointed at her work. “Hey, you’re forgetting about interference from time dilation. That’s all good in theory, but if space is stretching that significantly, so is time. If you were to step through a portal like that, you wouldn’t be able to come back to your own time in your own… you know, timeline.”

Rita shot him an annoyed look. “It’s not that heavy. The hypothesis here is that you have an area of very little mass, and you just kinda… crack open another dimension. It’s playing on string theory, not relativity.”

Morty frowned. “You’re still… you’re still in the fucking universe with… laws of physics and shit. Relativity still applies. You’re travelling through crazy distances in no time, or lots of time with no distance. You’d have no control over where in your own timeline you returned to.”

“If you made a portal with that amount of mass, you’d fuckin’... spaghettify yourself.” Rita scowled. “Like stepping through a black hole. You don’t have to fuck with relativity if you’re on the quantum level. I’m talking about splitting open a controlled amount of a fifth dimension within like… a quark. If I’m losing time, it’s gonna be a fraction of a nanosecond. Functionally worthless.”

Morty glanced at the diagram again, trying to bite back the argument on the tip of his tongue. He failed. “You just gonna be- shit, you just gonna be making a fucking portal _in_ the fourth dimension! Something that only exists for a single, zero dimensional point in time.”

Rita looked at her math. “Huh… So, you’re saying you’d need to open not only a fifth dimension, but a sixth and seventh physical dimension, as well as possibly a second temporal dimension?” She turned to a blank page and did some sketches. “Still not fucking heavy enough for significant time dilation. Prick.”

“If you’re trying to enter a whole nother- a whole nother fucking universe, it’s gonna be as heavy as a damn universe!” Morty said a little too loudly. Other students were staring at them in annoyance.

“I’m not trying to enter another universe!” Rita looked at him bemusedly. “I’m trying to get to a different point of space in _our_ universe. We don’t even know whether or not other universes exist.”

“Oh…” Morty blinked. “Oh yeah. I guess we don’t know that.”

“If infinitely large things even exist, it could be that this one universe is infinitely large. Or that other universes have different laws of physics, in which case I don’t want to go there. Or that They’re sitting right fucking next to us on the fourth dimension. Or whatever. There’s no proof of the… the hypothesis that universes are like a bag of ping-pong balls or some shit. I just wanna go to other planets in _this_ universe. Earth is stupid. Fuck Earth.” She made another mark on her notebook. “But regardless, it’s not gonna happen in my lifetime. It’s also highly improbable that we _could_ reach other universes because of the paradox that if someone else could reach us, and there are infinite versions of universes reaching out to infinite other universes… someone’s gonna reach every universe. So why haven’t we heard from anyone? Why hasn’t anyone- maybe another version of myself- why hasn’t anyone said anything yet? Silence. Total silence. Seems improbable.”

She sketched in silence for a while. Morty just stared. This was Rick’s- well, Rita’s brain without megaseeds. Morty _with_ megaseeds was just barely on her level. Wow.

Rita took a breath, expression looking like she wanted to say something, but then she stopped. Another long moment of drawing, and she spoke. “Unless there’s a finite number of universes we could possibly have access to…” A strange look came over her face. “Nah- that’s not… that’s not a fully formulated thought, ignore it.”

“A central finite curve.” Morty grinned. “An incredibly large- but certainly not infinite number of universes we could possibly reach out to given the laws of physics that dictate the functions of the multiverse as a whole.”

“But that’s taking as a given that other universes even exist.” Rita shrugged. “Which nobody knows.”

Ha. Weird. Weird to talk to someone smart who didn’t have a Rick in their universe. In Morty’s universe, the multiverse as a bag of ping-pong balls _was_ a given. Because Rick had been the one to show everyone on Earth that it was so. Strange, Rickless Earth. “I’m Morty.”

“Rita.”

They sat quietly for the rest of the lecture. As the students were all standing up to leave, Morty stayed behind as Rita slowly packed her stuff. “Wanna go get fucked up?”

“Yep.”

They walked out of the lecture hall hand-in-hand.

“Morty! Hey- Hey, Morty. Who’s… who’s your incredibly attractive, intelligent lady friend?” Rick grinned wildly as he stumbled up to Rita and Morty sitting at a bar off campus.

Morty glanced nervously between Rick and Rita, hoping she wouldn’t guess anything was… up. She didn’t seem to. “Uhh… This is Rita.”

“Ha! Awesome.” Rick laughed.

“Rita, this is my grandpa, Rick.” Morty stared down into his drink, feeling very...unreal.

“Hey.” Rita waved at Rick, who took a seat next to her.

Morty flagged down the bartender. “Uh… can I get like… six tequila shots?”

The bartender looked at their table of three, shrugged, and started to walk off.

“Wait- and like… a pitcher of beer.” Morty sighed, and relaxed into the seat.

The bartender frowned. “I guess…” She returned a moment later with the drinks as well as lots of pretzels and peanuts and a pitcher of water.

Morty downed two of the shots in quick succession. Rick took two, and Rita glanced suspiciously between the two of them before accepting two as well.

Later that night, the three of them stumbled out of the bar, Morty shoving Rick away. “Grandpa… Rick, go back to the… the ship. The… did we take the car? Go wait in the car.”

“You live on campus?” Rita asked Morty.

“Naw, I live… Fucking far away.” He smirked as Rick nodded knowingly and started walking off.

“He shouldn’t drive, I bet… ah, I don’t care…” Rita watched as Rick walked away. “What kinda car you got?”

“Uhhmmm…” Morty blinked, trying to think of a type of car he could say. “DeLorean?” Ha. Woops.

“For real?” Rita glanced curiously at Rick’s retreating figure. “I kinda wanna see.”

“Nah- naw. Don’t… don’t worry about it. Let’s… I dunno, let’s go back… you live on campus?” Morty squinted at her, trying to remain focussed.

“Yeah.”

“Great!” Morty smirked. “Show me.”

Rita laughed. “Yeah, fuck it. Alright.”

Oh god, oh damn, oh shit, oh fuck. Morty followed her back to her dorm. It looked… He kinda wanted to cry, it looked shockingly similar to Rick’s old room in the Smith house.

They sat down on her bed, and Morty glanced around. So bizarre. There was a picture on her bedside table of his great-grandparents standing beside her. There was a picture of… Her holding a baby… Beth didn’t have any aunts or uncles, who was that baby?

“Is that… who’s that baby?” Morty pointed.

“Oh…” Rita looked uncomfortable. “My… little brother.”

A sudden, horrifying thought hit Morty. “Oh… How… how old is he?”

“He was three. He died.” She looked down at her lap.

“Oh.” Morty stared at the picture. “Oh.”

“Yeah. But… it’s probably for the best. He had a lot of disabilities.” Rita shrugged.

“A lot of…” Guilt slammed Morty in the chest and he fished for his flask in his pocket. “Genetic problems?” He took a swig, relishing in the cool logic that flooded his brain.

“Yeah, he was fucked up. Even his birth was fucked up. It was his time to go- you know what- let’s not think about it, huh?” Rita grinned at Morty. “We’re having a fun night.”

Before Morty even had the chance to think about it, he found himself lip-locked with a person who was essentially his grandmother. The megaseeds dissolving into his blood told him it was okay, but his struggling conscience was killing him.

He tried to close his eyes and pretend like he was with someone else, but reality was hitting him hard, and his go-to Jessica fantasy had been tainted by the fact that she was a bounty hunter after his head, and she was very possibly dead.

Rita and Morty- shit, there really is no god. They were making out and hands were under Morty’s shirt that he had borrowed from Rick which really didn’t make this any better. Morty was dressed like Rick and Rita _was_ Rick and this was thirty six flavors of fucked up.

Oh, _shit!_ Thirty seven.

Morty stared down at Rita’s body, trying not to come to the conclusion he was coming to.

It was faded and light, but hard not to notice. Rita had a C-section scar on her stomach.

_Ignore it. Move on. Not your problem._ Morty tried to focus on the fact that he was about to have sex with a girl. _That’s pretty cool, huh, Mort? Pretty… pretty neat. Just think about that._

He did it. He pulled it off. Now he just had to sit back and hope that Rita would get pregnant so he wouldn’t have to do it again.

He left the room at some point in the early morning before the sun rose, leaving Rita asleep in bed. Rick was waiting in the car just like Morty had said. Morty clambered in without a word.

“Where’s Rita?” Rick frowned at Morty.

“What do you mean? Home in bed. It’s like… Morty checked the time on his phone. “It’s like five in the morning.”

“Well, shit. Let’s go get her.” Rick started the ship and lifted into the air.

“Why? Come on, I just kinda want to forget about all this.” Morty sighed. His headache was mounting.

“We gotta… we gotta keep her locked down until she has the baby, Morty. What did you think we were gonna do? Think… think even if you _did_ manage to get her pregnant on the first try, think she’d just keep the kid? No, I got- she’s got ambitions. I’m fucking smart, Morty, not just gonna give up on my life to raise some asshole Morty’s baby.” Rick swerved into the courtyard of the dormitories. “We gotta keep her with us until she has the baby, _then_ we can dump her and take off with her kid.”

Morty felt sick. Of course, yeah. Of course that’s what they’d have to do. “That’s…” Morty swallowed roughly as nausea built. “Sick.”

“Hey, it was _your_ idea, sport.” Rick leapt out of the car and walked over to the front door of Rita’s hall.

Morty stepped out his door as well and promptly keeled over to land on his hands and knees in the grass.

“You good?” Rick stared down at him with amusement.

“No, I’m gonna throw up.” Morty said as his stomach lurched.

“Hm. Okay, well, I’ll go get… Me. You just stay here and get that all out of your system before we get back in the car.” He strode off to the dormitory, leaving a trembling Morty behind.

Morty felt like shit. In every way possible, he felt fucking bad. Tears streamed down his face and he brought up the contents of his stomach in several spectacular waves before coughing pathetically and passing out face-first into a pool of his own vomit.

He was drifting in and out of consciousness as he waited for Rick to return and fix everything. He wanted Rick to just come back and fix everything for him like he always did. This was awful. And yet… some higher part of his brain just didn’t care. As much as he felt like shit, his moral code just _didn’t care._ It was like… he could rationalize all of this so easily. It all fit into very clear boxes of philosophy in his head, in which Morty found himself walking away from the situation guilt-free. It was like his brain and his body were fighting an epic battle over right and wrong. His brain doing what it felt like it needed to, and his body rebelling by inflicting pain.

Rick walked back outside a moment later with Rita passed out over his shoulder. He tossed her in the back seat of the ship and dusted his hands off before approaching his vomit-soaked, passed out grandson. “Morty, don’t be a pussy.” He prodded Morty in the side with his foot.

Morty groaned and struggled to sit up. He looked down at himself in absolute disgust that only caused him to gag and puke again. “Rick, I don’t like this.” 

Rick sighed. “All- alright. Uh… Okay, Morty, uh, I’m just gonna… Eh. Screw it.” He rolled up his sleeves and grabbed Morty under the armpits, pulling him to his feet. He huffed in annoyance, and started taking off all of Morty’s clothes.

Morty gasped as a painful burst of cold water hit him in the face. “Where- wh-wh-where did you get a hose from, Rick?” Morty suddenly felt much more sober.

“Not the first time I’ve been in this situation, M-Morty. A couple years back, I installed a hose. Actually, you can pretty much live in this ship all the time if you want. Pretty- pretty cool, right?” Rick grinned as he finished hosing Morty down.

Morty was shivering hard. Rick shoved him bodily into the back with Rita and took off.

If there was a hell, they had certainly passed the point of no return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Cass again. Hi. Hope you enjoyed the fiasco. It took me all the rest of the day. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go sleep for a few days then come back and read this chapter wondering why the fuck I would write and publish something like that.
> 
> Thank you for being decent humans. I love you. <3


	10. The last Rickstion

No later than the moment they arrived in their own dimension, Morty and Rick were met with sirens. Angry looking members of the galactic federation were chasing them down. A few pissed-off Ricks and a swarm of pissed off Morties were screaming at them from the street in front of Rick’s house. Morty took them in with hungover disinterest.

“Ahh… Shit. Rick, maybe we should leave.” Morty gazed blearily down at the protest and incipient riot.

“Guess- UURP Guess so, Mort. Alright…” He punched a few buttons on the dashboard. “And awaaaay we g-”

There was an explosion so loud Morty couldn’t hear it. Deafness came before the blast. The heat was so powerful it destroyed the CPUs of their technologies and sent them spiralling downwards in a fiery crash as Rick lost control of the wheel. Morty couldn’t see. White light burned his eyes as white heat scalded his cheeks and arms and hair.

Morty’s forehead smashed into the door of the ship when they crash landed, and the effects of the concussion were immediate. He blinked dazedly as he felt a migraine split his head in two. Rick seemed to be spared too much damage, and was frantically trying to piece back together his navigation system.

Morties and Ricks were approaching slowly, menacingly, like a herd of zombies encroaching.

Rick was stripping wires and reconfiguring everything with a look of intense concentration. Morty felt helpless as he watched his grandfather do everything. His head felt fuzzy- stupid like before he’d taken that megaseed brew. He thought to spare a glance to the limp body of Rita next to him, to double check she was still alive. Her eyes were half open, and she was drooling as she struggled to overcome whatever chloroform, roofie thing Rick had dosed her with.

At least she wasn’t dead. That would suck.

Before Morty knew what was happening, the ship accelerated suddenly upwards in a burst of noxious outgas.

Rick threw the portal gun at Morty, yelling silently to Morty’s burst eardrums, “Fix it!” before turning back to driving.

Morty stared at the device in his hands without comprehension. Dumbly, he fumbled for a screwdriver and unscrewed the main panel. Plastic coatings on wires had melted, leaving it an unreadable mess. Bits of copper stuck out everywhere, and the CPU was shot.

“Umm…” Morty stared at the catastrophe, overwhelmed. Beginning to fix it would be like beginning to clean the house of a hoarder if that hoarder collected live electrical sockets and forks, and was also your ride out of town.

A roll of electrical tape hit him in the side of the head, and it took Morty a good while to reason out that Rick had thrown it to him to help fix the portal gun.

“Rick?” Morty’s voice sounded distorted to his shredded eardrums. “I think I’m stupid again…”

“Find your flask, I really can’t deal with you now, Morty.” Rick’s voice sounded strained, even to Morty’s deadened ears.

Morty felt around in his pockets- all empty. Anxiety mounting, he glanced around the messy floor of the ship. It looked like a sci-fi and alcoholic themed ISpy.

“I spy with my little eye…” Morty mumbled to himself. “Somebody needs Al-anon.”

“Hey- do I… do I come into your business and make all judgements of you? Shit.” Rick shot an annoyed look at Morty. “Incestuous bastard thinks he’s all better than me…”

“Rick, I can’t find it.” Morty kicked through more junk. “I can’t- Shit.” The flask lay on the floor, neck distorted from the crash and leaking the last drops of megaseed juice onto the grimy floormat.

Rick tutted. “Welp, you’re not- don’t be thinking you’re gonna get in on any of mine, Morty. I gotta get us… get us out of this little pickle you got us in. Gotta keep myself sharp. You just gotta go back to being a dumbshit idiot pain in my ass.”

Morty looked back at the portal gun, the seeming complexity of it growing as the hangover-flavored concussion seemed to radiate deeper into his brain. His eyes lost focus, and he felt consciousness leaving him. Through the fog, he could also hear sirens approaching, blaring galactic federation signals through their radio.

“Rick… Grandpa, I can’t fix it…” His words were becoming slurred. “I fucked everything up… again…” Crushing sadness and guilt hit him square in the chest and constricted his windpipe.

Rick took a swig out of his flask and belched. “It’s… it’s gonna be okay, Morty. It’s gonna be great. I know what to do, get- get ready bub. Get strapped, buddy, here we go.” He tightened his grip on the wheel as he accelerated at a painful rate. “Gonna- just gonna you and me fly us into a blackhole, Morty. Blackhole, bay-bee! Here we come!”

“Wh… what?!” Morty struggled to keep his eyes open in order to prevent this disaster. “No, wait, that’s… that’s a pretty bad idea, Rick. Grandpa, grandpa Rick, please-”

“No, don’t- don’t even worry, don’t even think about it, it’s gonna be great, Morty. My greatest escape yet. Don’t even worry about it.” His eyes were manic pinwheels, and he leaned over the edge of his seat like a kid on a bicycle. 

Morty sat frozen in his seat as the ship hurdled closer and closer to light-speed. Andromeda sat in the distance, square center of Morty’s vision as they barreled through the Milky Way. Weird things happen close to light speed. The sun seemed to grow farther away the closer they traveled towards it. In reality, Morty’s field of vision was expanding as his retinas captured light waves at dramatically different distances within such a short time. Then, before he could say a word, the sun was in their rearview, and they were hopping through wormholes to speed things along.

An ominous absence of everything appeared in the distance, and Morty’s heart dropped. Light bent and curved and was flung into orbit around what seemed like nothing. A whole star orbited this nothing, stretching and moving oddly into nothingness as it traveled behind the nothing. It twisted and morphed as it’s light was bent, and the shutter speed of Morty’s eyes moving at the speed of light wasn’t fast enough to comprehend the distortions in time he was seeing.

“Morty-” Rick’s voice was odd. Almost… it could have been described as reverent if it wasn’t Rick. “Keep your eyes open, this is going to be the best death of your life.”

Terror didn’t give Morty much of a choice. He couldn’t look away. As they approached the event horizon, Morty glanced back. The police who had been hot on their tail were nowhere to be seen. In fact, nothing was the same. Behind the ship, stars exploded like fireworks across the sky. Supernovae stretched across space at incredible speeds. The Milky Way collided with Andromeda, and the two danced in an elegant pas de deux until they too flickered and died. More stars were born from the dust, and the heavy metals grew with fission, creating all new worlds of unnamed elemental construction. Morty imagined lakes of lead and iron, creatures breathing sulfuric acid. The next generation of stars, burning hydrogen and combining the elements of the Milky Way into heavier substances than ever before.

As they drew closer to the collapsed star, they were dragged into the level of orbit of their own reflected photons. Morty glanced to the side and saw his own face staring back at him, having circled the black hole and returned to his eyes.This illusion of himself from the past was not at all disconcerting to him given his current predicament. His legs… They were stretching. He must be 20 feet tall.

As they drew closer to the singularity in the black hole, the immense gravity was acting at a visible gradient of strength along his body. He was being pulled by his feet towards the center, but his head was still floating, lagging behind.

Then there was nothing. Or, rather, there was everything. For a moment, Morty became a part of a countably infinite amount of matter, compressed into a zero-dimensional point along with Rick, Rita, the ship, and literally everything else. Literally.

A Big Bang. The beginning of a whole other universe. The ship and Rick and Morty all reconstructed on the other side, seemingly for no reason.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Rick leapt out of his seat and cheered. “Math is the best, and I’m a genius! I’m a genius! I just saved your life, my life, her life, and every other life ever! I just figured out how to survive the end of the universe, bitches! Fuck entropy! Fuck destiny! Yeah, humans! Score infinity for humankind!” He was clutching at his hair, laughing wildly. “I just _wrote_ new physics! I just changed the laws of physics! Look at this universe! I did this! I just wrote the destiny for this universe forever! For an uncountably infinite amount of time, I just wrote destiny!”

Morty stared out in wonder as the first stars of this universe formed at amazing speeds.

“We just gotta sit by this black hole for a while until Earth develops, then we can go home.” Rick hid his face, and Morty wondered if he was actually crying. “There _is_ a God, Morty, and I’m him. Look at what I made.”

It really was beautiful. Stars roared into life, and died. Generations of stars smashed together elements, forming the debris that would one day… One big chunk of debris nudged another big chunk of debris. The Earth began to form. Chunks and rocks and boulders and pebbles whizzed through space and pulled on each other until the density of it caused it to burn. Lava flowed around the surface, volcanoes erupting every which way. Then, another large chunk smashed into the molten mass and broke it into two pieces, one of which was flung into orbit around the other. Earth and her moon were dancing together for the first time.

Rick passed Morty a telescope to let him watch.

The Earth cooled, and water vapor was created, and settled. The oceans were born. A moment later, a splash of green began to appear, and algae created the ozone. Soon after, animals crawled out of the water and began to populate the land. Great reptiles conquered Earth… Until a huge chunk of debris smashed into Earth and killed almost everything. The climate changed, and the world froze. The great dying. Out of the death, More creatures appeared. Birds ruled briefly, then mammals began to really take shape. Little rat-like things crawled out of their caves and became cats and wolves and mammoths and finally… yes- that looked like a human. Wolves joined in symbiosis with humans and turned into dogs. It was the human’s turn to rule the earth. All of human history was happening too fast for Morty to see. One second they were cavemen, Neanderthals that interbred with Homo Sapiens before dying out. The next second, every city Morty had ever known was in place, and people were walking around with dogs so small they fit in purses, and staring at their cell phones.

Rick pulled them out of their holding state by the remnants of the explosion and sailed down towards Earth.

Morty was hesitant to step out of the ship when they landed… in front of Rick’s house. It seemed… wrong. Impossible. Well, highly improbable.

“Why…” Morty struggled to find words. “Why is it the same?”

“Every universe is pre-destined. From the moment of its creation, everything is set. Even after that universe dies and compresses back down into a singularity, it’s still set. It will expand again in another big bang, and it will do exactly the same thing as before. And so on until infinity. No change. There’s no such thing as free will. It’s an illusion. Everything you’ve done could be laid out in a mathematical model years before you ever did it. Once the pieces are in motion, they just follow their programming.”

Morty’s head spun. “I don’t think I like that.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s the truth.” Rick took a deep draw from his flash and stared out at the world he made. “Science doesn’t give a shit if you feel comfortable.” He stretched to pop his back before lifting Rita bodily out of the backseat. “The cool thing here, Morty- what, what you gotta appreciate here is, Morty- That I set this universe to do exactly what our home universe did. No changes. Except one. I wanted us to be created. So here’s an interesting philosophical question-” He kicked open the unlocked door and dumped Rita on the couch. “We were created just a few minutes ago. We literally didn’t exist until we came into this universe. We look like and have the same memories as those guys back in the other universe, but by all accounts we’re not them. Their bodies are still being crushed in the black hole. They couldn’t come with us because of conservation of matter. So, here’s a real thinker-” Rick sat down heavily into his chair. “Are we really the people we think we are? Are we the same as those other guys from that other universe? Or are we brand new?”

Morty sat down next to Rita on the couch, question hovering unreachably above his head. “I… I don’t know. We’re the same- I mean, I feel the same.”

“Yeah.” Rick propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Well, I have two answers, and you can just pick whichever suits you. First, no. We’re not the same. Duh. All a person is is a collection of atoms that come together and form a huge ego. Every few years, all those atoms get replaced anyway, so you’re not even the same person as you were when you were born. So especially now, no. We’re not the same. Different people. New guys. Babies, actually.”

Morty stared at his hands.

“The other answer is, yeah, we’re the same. Obviously. You’re whoever you think you are, because whatever you think is your reality. For all I know I never left prison and all of this is a loneliness induced hallucination. So whatever you wanna call the ‘self’ or your ‘consciousness’ or whatever. Either way, you have an answer.” Rick sighed and closed his eyes.

Deep, existential dread filled Morty from the bottoms of his feet to his throat. “Which answer do you pick?” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Neither. Both. I don’t care.” Rick rubbed his eyes. “Now, go play by yourself, grandpa’s gonna take a nap.”

Morty stumbled out of the room and collapsed onto Rick’s bed. Everything was too much to think about, and his brain was clouded with stupidity. Besides that, his concussion was still pounding, and he wondered if it was safe to go to sleep.

_Who cares? It’s already pre-destined whether or not I fall asleep. Don’t worry about it._

His eyes shut, and sleep yanked him down like a fish on a hook, but if the fisherman was at the very bottom of the deepest part of the ocean, where no light could reach.

Morty fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright- to apologize for the last chapter, here's this chapter. Filled with science. Not horrible rick/morty babies. Science. Ah. Good.


	11. Final Rickdown

Years later, Morty would attempt to wipe the memory of what they did to Rita from his head. Years later, he would spiral into guilt, alcoholism, and depression because of it. Years later, he would consider turning himself in to the Galactic Federation.

Morty named the baby David. David Sanchez.

David was the key to Morty’s everything. The kid was a handful, certainly- any disabled baby provides a host of challenges- but he was exactly what Morty needed. The ship became their home, modded out to resemble an RV on the inside. The Sanchez family’s entire life was built around travel. They were vagrants and criminals, wandering the galaxy in search of adventure and their next big job.

The day Rick died was the happiest Morty had ever seen him.

They were barreling through space at 90% the speed of light, taking the scenic route to a bar on a little rocky planet of Proxima Centauri. Dead space surrounded them, and Rick sighed in contentment as he fired off a wormhole cannon and brought them right to the doorstep. He swaggered out of the car, guitar strapped around his back. Morty followed, holding a three year old David by the hand.

“Rick, you old bag of squanch!” Rick’s old friend and bandmate Squanchy greeted him. “You ready to get squanched?”

“Squanch-aayy!” Rick greeted him. “Ready as ever! Morty, Idiot, go take a seat. Me and Squanchy gonna get this party _rolling!”_

Morty hoisted David onto his hip and walked off to find an empty couple of chairs in the crowd. David blinked blearily where he sat staring at the tiny, box-stage with either apathy or incomprehension. Morty could never tell.

Initially, Rick had been against naming the kid. Morty wondered if perhaps it was too traumatic for him to think of the baby as… well, a baby as opposed to a _thing_ they used in their journey. Morty wondered if that’s why Rick did a lot of the things he did. Maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t care, but that he cared too much. Rick didn’t like to think about things that bothered him. He preferred to shut it off and move on. Years ago, Morty would have said that was unhealthy, but now… well, maybe it’s better to just let go of the things you can’t control rather than stew over them in anxiety. Maybe Rick had the right idea. Maybe he had the right idea about David. It certainly was fucking depressing to think too hard about the kid. He was severely developmentally delayed, and in chronic pain. It had a similar effect to keeping a bunch of Mortys in constant pain. David was definitely the perfect cloaking device. Unfortunately, Morty’s paternal instinct overcame his logical apathy, and he found himself actually caring about the kid, which really only served to cause him distress and guilt.

David blinked lazily up at the stage and pointed vaguely when Rick walked out. “Mmm!” He pointed at his own forehead: simple sign language for father.

“Yeah,” Morty praised. “Great-grandpa Rick. He’s gonna play a song for you.”

It was cool seeing Rick perform. Morty had only ever seen pictures of his old band days. He seemed totally comfortable and happy when he was playing. It was kinda weird.

Guitar slammed through the air, punk-rock riffs bouncing off the walls. Rick grinned into the microphone.

_“It’s 7 AM and I might go to bed_  
If these voices would quiet down inside of my head  
I just can’t tell through amphetamine hell  
If I’ve taken too many or not enough pills.” 

The lights flashed wildly in blues and greens, leaving Rick and Squanchy silhouetted in a puff of smoke. Morty covered David’s eyes, worried it might cause a seizure.

_“The door is unlocked ‘cause someone cut the chain_  
To try and escape the inside of their brain  
I don’t really care ‘cause this house isn’t mine  
And I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.” 

Girls in gold bikinis were handing out test-tubes of strange liquor. Morty downed two of them in quick succession, and relaxed into his chair. People were milling about, some dancing, some drinking, some trying to disappear into the dark corners to avoid the writhing crowds.

The chord progression built to a high, and Rick’s guitar whined with resounding chorus.

_“I’ll be running the Silk Road tonight_  
My mother would overdose on her own fright  
But she’s too busy sucking Jesus’ dick  
So she don’t claim fault in any of this.” 

Morty grinned. He hadn’t spoken to his mother in years. He wondered if she ever even noticed he was gone. She was probably happier without her family around. She’d never really had the chance to be on her own before. Maybe she was better off.

_“My phone’s gonna die, so I can’t call you names_  
But you are the last one I have left to blame  
‘Cause all of my friends have recovered or died  
But I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.” 

The crowd began to murmur slightly- Morty glanced around, wondering what was wrong. People seemed to be staring at the door. A sinking feeling hit him.

_“I plan to leave this world when I can_  
In a ship made of nylon that’s strung to a fan  
I don’t believe in an afterlife,  
But that’s fine. I’m fine. It’s fine.” 

The lights shut off save for one blue spotlight that illuminated Rick. Morty grabbed David and headed out the door, a strange calm and acceptance flooding him as he ran towards the car, the final notes of the song hitting him.

_“I’ll be running the Silk Road tonight_  
My mother would overdose on her own fright  
My kids ran away, I don’t blame them one bit.  
Guess there’s nothing left for them in all of this.” 

Morty buckled David into his seat and situated himself behind the wheel. Just as he started the engine, a siren went off. As Morty pulled the ship into the air, a booming voice rang out:

“Rick Sanchez of dimension C-137. You are under arrest for crimes against Ricks, Humanity, Life, and the universe. Morty Smith, you are under arrest for child abuse, drug trafficking, sexual assault, and crimes against the galaxy. Surrender peacefully or be eliminated.”

Morty was already crossing the atmosphere as the police continued talking. He switched on the radio in order to hear what was going on. Rick’s voice crackled over the speakers, sounding calm.

“Morty, David, you’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. Don’t even think about it. Have fun, guys.”

A gunshot rang out. There was a moment of silence, then one more.

“Squanchy and Rick C-137 have been fatally shot. Morty Smith and David Sanchez are of unknown whereabouts. Send out a search party. We’ll find them.”

Morty just smiled. They wouldn’t find him. Not with David. Not with all the skills he’d learned from Rick.

It was strange. He wasn’t sad. Morty had always thought atheists must be more fearful of death than anyone else, but in that moment he wondered if it wasn’t true. Rick, for all his cynicism, had come to revel in and love the beauty of the universe. He understood the meaninglessness of his own life, and how inconsequential it all was. If nothing means anything, there are no regrets. No ‘unfinished business.’ Just arbitrary beginning, chaos, then arbitrary end.

Morty was happy for him. Life sucks. And Rick was done. What a beautiful moment. They shouldn’t mourn, they should celebrate.

“Great-grandpa is dead, David.” Morty told his son. “Isn’t that great? He doesn’t have to struggle anymore.”

David signed “Goodbye?”

“Yeah, goodbye. Forever.” Morty smiled.

“Sad.” David signed. “Miss.”

“No, happy. Happy. Life is hard. Maybe- maybe we should celebrate when it’s over. Success. Job well done. Or, at least, job done.” Morty gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Are you happy, David?”

“Happy.” David looked at Morty blankly.

“Do you resent me for bringing you into this world?” Morty glanced at the kid. “Look at you. You’re hurting, you’re retarded, and you’re totally dependant on me for probably the rest of your life. And I did that on purpose. Are you happy?”

“Where’s grandpa?” David signed.

Morty stared out into the vast open space ahead of them. “Nowhere. He’s nowhere. Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... That's the end. Weird little story, but I hope you liked it. :)


End file.
